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THEISTIC ARGUMENT 



AS AFFECTED BY RECENT THEORIES 



A COURSE OF LECTURES DELIVERED AT THE LOWELL 
INSTITUTE IN BOSTON 



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BY 



J. LEWIS PIMAN, D. D. 

LATE PROFESSOR OF HISTORY AND POLITICAL ECONOMY 
IN BROWN UNIVERSITY 



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JUN 23J881 ,1 




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BOSTON 
HOUGHTON, MIFFLIN AND COMPANY 

1881 






Copyright, 1881, 
By HOUGHTON, MIFFLIN & CO. 

All rights reserved. 



The Riverside Press^ Cambridge : 
Stereotyped and Printed by H. O. Houghton & Company. 



PREFACE. 



Professor Diman, the author of this volume, 
died, after a short illness, on the 3d of February, 
188 1. From the time of his acceptance of the 
Chair of History and Political Economy in Brown 
University, in 1864, he devoted himself chiefly to 
historical studies, for which from early life he had 
shown a remarkable aptitude. His enthusiasm in 
this department, however, and the brilliant success 
which he attained as a teacher, did not dull the in- 
terest, which he had likewise early manifested, in 
Philosophy. While preparing for the Christian 
ministry, he had spent two years in Germany, 
where he numbered among his instructors Julius 
Miiller and Rothe, Erdmann, Ulrici, and Trende- 
lenburg. During those years his time was mainly 
given to the study of Kant, and of the series of 
philosophers in the line of succession from him. 
While a Pastor, and after he became a Professor, 
the problems which belong to metaphysics and the- 
ology in common, to the exploring of which the 
marvelous advance of natural and physical science 
has lent a new stimulus, continued to engage his 
attention. Indeed, it was the flavor of a certain 



IV PREFACE. 

speculative element, kept within due bounds, that 
imparted a peculiar fascination to his portrayal of 
historical persons and eras. When, therefore, he 
was invited to give a Course of Lectures at the 
Lowell Institute, in the spring of 1880, on the 
foundations of Natural Religion, he needed no 
other qualification than a careful review of the 
recent literature on the subject. This preparation 
was conscientiously made. In particular, the most 
prominent writers, as Mill, Spencer, Huxley, Dar- 
win, Tyndall, who have dealt directly or indirectly 
with these topics from points of view more or less 
at variance with prevalent opinion, he examined 
afresh. At the same time he did not pass by the 
ablest of the later writers in defense of Theism. 
I perceive that he had profited especially by the 
perusal of Janet's thorough treatise on " Final 
Causes," and Professor Flint's excellent volumes 
on ** Theism "and "Anti-Theistic Theories." The 
result of his reflections and researches appears on 
the pages which follow. 

In fulfilling the request that I should superin- 
tend the publication of these Lectures of a dear 
and most valued friend, I have had no hesitation in 
deciding to print them precisely as they were left by 
the author. The changes of phraseology are very 
few, and are confined almost exclusively to such ob- 
scurities or slight inaccuracies of expression as are 
incident to rapid composition. In cases where the 
author had noted in an abbreviated form the title 



PREFACE. V 

of a book from which a citation is drawn, I have 
made the reference more full and exact. In other 
cases where it appeared desirable to add references 
not indicated at all in the manuscript, I have en- 
closed them in brackets. Had Professor Diman 
himself prepared these discourses for the press, he 
might have curtailed certain passages and expanded 
others, have fortified his argument anew at various 
points, and have made the whole volume, both as to 
matter and style, more closely conformed to his 
high standard of literary work. 

At the same time I do not feel that the book 
needs any apology. It will be found to be distin- 
guished from most of the recent publications on the 
subject by its freedom from technical language, and 
by the luminous treatment which is fitted to com- 
mend it to the favor of thoughtful persons not spe- 
cially addicted to metaphysical reading. It is marked 
by the elevation and grace which, as they were part 
and parcel of the author's mind, could not fail to 
enter into all the productions of his pen. The dis- 
cussion is conducted throughout with absolute can- 
dor. Nowhere is there an attempt to forestall the 
judgment of the reader by raising a prejudice 
against an opinion that is to be controverted. The 
doctrines and the reasoning of adversaries are fully 
and even forcibly stated. Vituperation is never sub- 
stituted for evidence. Nothing in the way of objec- 
tion that deserves consideration is passed by. The 
entire field suggested by the theme is traversed. 



VI PREFACE, 

Whatever dissent may arise in the reader's mind in 
reference to any of the positions which are taken by 
Professor Diman, or the reasons by which they are 
maintained, there can be, as I believe, among com- 
petent judges but one opinion as to the acuteness 
and vigor, as well as the learning and fairness, with 
which the argument is pursued. 

George P. Fisher. 
New Haven, May 19, 1881. 



CONTENTS. 



-♦- 



LECTURE I. 

PAGB 

Present Aspects of the Problem i 



LECTURE II. 
The Relativity of Knowledge 35 

LECTURE III. 
Cause and Force .67 

LECTURE IV. 
The Argument from Order 99 

LECTURE V. 
The Argument from Design 133 

LECTURE VL 
Evolution and Final Cause 168 

LECTURE VII. 
Immanent Finality .201 

LECTURE VIIL 
Conscience and a Moral Order . . ... 234 



Vlil CONTENTS. 

LECTURE IX. 
History and a Moral Purpose 265 

LECTURE X. 
Personality and the Infinite 297 

LECTURE XL 
The Alternative Theories 329 

LECTURE XIL 
The Inferences from Theism 361 



THE THEISTIC ARGUMENT. 



LECTURE I. 

PRESENT ASPECTS OF THE PROBLEM. 

In beginning a course of lectures, like the present, 
I am well aware that I lay myself open to what may 
seem a grave objection. Are not the questions, it 
may be asked, which will claim our consideration, 
as old as human thought, and have they not been 
explored to the utmost limit to which thought can 
hope to go ? Can anything be said that has not 
been said already ? In other directions of inquiry 
we may add to the sum of human knowledge, but 
when we reach the line that severs the seen from 
the unseen, the natural from the supernatural, are 
we not treading an eternal circle, and only echoing 
the opinions, while we modify the phrases, of earlier 
thinkers ? As respects the grounds of religious be- 
lief, the philosopher of the present day, it is claimed, 
has no advantage over the sages of antiquity. Ad- 
vance in knowledge has in no way affected the force 
of the argument. " The reasoning," says Macaulay, 
"by which Socrates, in Xenophon's hearing, con- 
futed the little atheist Aristodemus, is exactly the 
reasoning of Paley's natural theology. Socrates 
makes precisely the same use of the statues of Poly- 



2 THE THE I STIC ARGUMENT 

cletus and the pictures of Zeuxis which Paley makes 
of the watch." " Natural theology, then, is not a 
progressive science." ^ 

As with many of Macaulay's maxims, there is a 
sense in which this statement is true, but a very im- 
portant sense in which it mistakes the truth. No 
one will deny that the great problems of natural 
theology are the same to-day that they were in the 
days of yore. Yet any one but shghtly versed in the 
history of opinions must equally admit that the at- 
titude of the human mind, with reference to these 
problems, has been marked by many changes. It is, 
indeed, only a most superficial view which affirms 
that history repeats itself. True, as we study cer- 
tain aspects of the past, we are struck with what 
seem the marvelous resemblances to our own time. 
In ancient states there were periods of youth and 
periods of decline, and as we turn the pages of their 
annals what we have been used to look upon as an- 
cient becomes strangely modern. Yet, after all, it 
is only analogy that we can trace, and not a perfect 
parallel. For the conditions of successive epochs 
can never be precisely the same. Beneath an ap- 
parent likeness is veiled an essential difference. As 
little in its opinions, as in its dress, does one age 
ever reproduce another. 

In the following discussion it will be my aim to 
show how the great problems which make up what is 
called natural religion, — the problem of the exist- 
ence of a Supreme Being, of a divine order in nature 
and in human life, of the immortality and moral re- 
sponsibility of man, — have been affected by some of 

1 Macaulay, " Ranke's History of the Popes " {Essays, Am. ed., 
vol. iv., pp. 303, 204). 



PRESENT ASPECTS OF THE PROBLEM. 3 

the more recent phases of human thought. The in- 
quiry, at best, under the Hmitations imposed by a 
course of -lectures Uke the present, can only be in- 
complete. A full examination of any of the ques- 
tions which such an investigation covers would de- 
mand a minuteness of treatment intolerable to the 
most patient and attentive hearer. I can only hope 
to single out the more salient aspects of my subject, 
and shall willingly forego any praise for elegance 
of treatment if I can succeed, by the plainest and 
most simple language, in setting my subject-matter 
clearly before you. The ascertainment of truth is 
my single aim. In the presence of the solemn mys- 
teries which we are about to probe all lesser con- 
siderations should be forgotten. 

One of the greatest thinkers of all time has said 
that the business of philosophy is to answer three 
questions : What can I know t What ought I to do .-* 
and, For what may I hope t If I may venture to 
modify this sentence, I would make it read, not the 
business of philosophy, but the business of life. The 
problems here presented are not problems for the 
professed student alone, but problems which present 
themselves to every man, and, if we consider them 
carefully, it is plain that they virtually resolve them- 
selves into a single one. Evidently the questions 
'what I ought to do,' and 'what I may hope for,' can 
only be answered when I have answered the prior 
question, What can I know } For " rational expec- 
tation and moral action are based upon belief," and 
belief is the result of knowledge. The grounds and 
the boundaries of knowledge belong to a distinct field 
of inquiry, but that knowledge, on whatever basis it 
may be found to rest, is the condition of responsible 



4 THE TIIEISTIC ARGUMENT. 

action and of intelligent belief, seems a principle so 
evident that it needs only to be stated. The ques- 
tion that first confronts us, then, is, What can I 
know ? 

On the far-reaching scope of this inquiry I surely 
need not enlarge. It is the question which first 
confronts us ; and it is the question which gives 
every other question its meaning. The questions 
which, as a rational being, I am forced to put to 
myself, * Whence am I .? ' ' For what was I made } ' and 
* Whither am I going.-*' — are these questions which 
I have a right to ask, questions to which I may ex- 
pect an answer ; or do they lie outside the boundaries 
of any knowledge to which I can reach, and are they 
simply insoluble enigmas which sober reflection will 
leave in the region of dream-land ? The question 
whether I myself am simply the passing effect of an 
indefinite succession of physical forces, a single step 
in the unresting evolution of a purely natural order, a 
momentary pause between an unfathomable past and 
an unfathomable future, a helpless link in a chain 
of consequences whose beginning and end stretch 
alike beyond the limit of legitimate inquiry; or 
whether I am endued with the attributes of a moral 
being ; whether I am related to a supernatural order ; 
whether I can by conscious volition control my own 
acts ; and whether I am held to a responsibility 
which invests my brief mortal life with an immor- 
tal import, — this question, whatever form it may 
take, evidently throws every other question of life 
into insignificance. Until this is answered all other 
questions are of little account. I may seek to oc- 
cupy myself with the study of the external world ; 
I may search out the subtle properties of matter ; 



PRESENT ASPECTS OF THE PROBLEM, 5 

I may analyze the mysterious forces whose restless 
movement masks itself behind the perplexing phe- 
nomena of physical nature ; I may note the won- 
drous order of the heavens ; delight myself with the 
evidence of an ever-present law comprehending the 
dust in the sunbeam, and the constellations set in 
the flaming walls of space ; or, may busy myself 
with the study of man, — trace back his history to 
its remote and unrecorded beginning, gather the 
proofs of his upward progress from age to age, strive 
to elicit from his supreme achievements the secret 
of his restless aspiration, seek to comfort myself 
with the prospect of his future perfectibility, to trace 
the increasing purpose that runs through his years, 
— but I come back again unsatisfied to the haunt- 
ing question, * What am I myself, what do I know, 
what have I to do ? ' Nothing else profits if I can- 
not answer this. 

While these problems are as old as philosophy 
itself, they have never been presented with the dis- 
tinctness, and never been urged with the searching 
force with which they are clothed at the present 
hour. The question as to the nature and limits of 
human knowledge is the one that crops out of all 
the philosophical and scientific discussion of the 
day. It is the underlying granite that shows itself 
whenever the superficial strata are disturbed. And 
it is not a matter for regret, but rather for congratu- 
lation, that the controversies of the day have con- 
verged to this point. For this is the final issue on 
which lesser difference of opinion turns ; and it can 
but be regarded as a wholesome symptom that the 
very school which so arrogantly discarded meta- 
physics has been brought at last to recognize so 



6 THE THEISTIC ARGUMENT. 

clearly the great truth that even physical inquiries 
result in metaphysical principles, and that the 
newest conclusions of science carry us back to a re- 
gion where something more than science must be 
called into request. The science simply of natural 
things rests on fundamental truths which are the 
first principles of the whole edifice of human knowl- 
edge. The boundary line which divides legitimate 
and positive knowledge from empty theory and as- 
sumption was first traced out by philosophers. If 
Descartes laid the foundation of modern philosophi- 
cal criticism by his inquiry into the nature of cer- 
tainty, it was the more sober genius of Locke which 
taught the busy mind of man " to be more cautious 
in meddling with things exceeding its comprehen- 
sion ; to stop when it was at the utmost extent of its 
tether ; and to sit down in quiet ignorance of those 
things which upon examination are found to be be- 
yond the reach of our capacities." '*We should not 
then," he says, " be so forward, out of an affectation 
of universal knowledge, to raise questions and per- 
plex ourselves and others with disputes about things 
to which our understandings are not suited, and of 
which we cannot frame in our minds any clear and 
distinct perception, or whereof, as it has perhaps 
too often happened, we have not any notion at all. 
We shall not have much reason to complain of the 
narrowness of our minds if we will but employ them 
about what may be of use to us. Our business here 
is not to know all things, but those which concern 
our conduct."^ 

The conclusion from which Locke was saved by 
his strong sense and his sincere religious faith did 

1 Quoted by Huxley, Huiney p. 54. 



PRESENT ASPECTS OF THE PROBLEM, / 

not appall the more subtle genius of Hume. In re- 
gions where the English philosopher only recom- 
mended caution, his Scottish follower boldly advo- 
cated skepticism. Locke has been accused of in- 
consistency. Attacking the theory of innate ideas, 
it has been said that he yet clings to conceptions 
vitally associated with that theory. Thus asserting 
that all our knowledge conies through the senses, he 
allows that we yet know of a being who cannot be 
manifested through the senses. No such complaint 
has been brought against Hume. Unlike Locke, he 
was free from theological prepossessions. He was 
content to follow logic wherever it led him. He- 
completes the critical movement which Locke be- 
gan and did not push to its legitimate results, and 
from him we may date the definite abandonment of 
conceptions which up to his time had ruled almost 
without question. He assailed alike the old theory 
of perception and the old theory of causation, and 
the result was complete uncertainty as to the ulti- 
mate grounds alike of human knowledge and human 
belief. 

Under the name of " mitigated skepticism," he 
advocates the limitation of our faculties to such 
subjects as are best adapted to the narrow capacity 
of human understanding. " The imagination of 
man," he says, " is naturally sublime, delighted with 
whatever is remote and extraordinary, and running 
without control into the most distant parts of space 
and time, in order to avoid the objects which cus- 
tom has rendered too familiar to it. A correct judg- 
ment observes a contrary method, and, avoiding all 
distant and high inquiries, confines itself to common 
Ufe, and to such subjects as fall under daily practice 



8 THE THEISTIC ARGUMENT. 

and experience, leaving the more sublime topics to 
the embellishments of poets and orators, or to the 
arts of priests and politicians. While we cannot 
give a satisfactory reason why we believe, after a 
thousand experiments, that a stone will fall, or fire 
burn, can we ever satisfy ourselves concerning any 
determination which we may form with regard to 
the origin of worlds, and the situation of nature from 
and to eternity." ^ The only method of freeing the 
mind from these useless questions was such an an- 
alysis of its powers as would show that it was un- 
fitted to solve them. 

• No fact in modern literary history, it seems to 
me, is more remarkable than the revival of the phi- 
losophy of Hume. In his own time his influence 
was not widely felt. The pages of his autobiogra- 
phy are sprinkled with mortifying admissions of the 
meagre attention awarded to his works at the time 
of their publication. His ruling ambition was love 
of literary fame, and this reward, in the direction 
that he most coveted it, — that of metaphysical in- 
quiry, — he did not succeed in winning. ** Never," 
he says, '* was literary attempt more unfortunate 
than my 'Treatise of Human Nature.'" And years 
after his death one of his own countrymen. Sir 
James Mackintosh, says of his system, " Universal 
skepticism involves a contradiction in terms. It is 
a belief that there can be no belief. It is an at- 
tempt of the mind to act without its structure and 
by other laws than those to which its nature has 
subjected its operations. To reason without assent- 
ing to the principles on which reasoning is founded 
is not unlike an effort to feel without nerves, or to 

1 Huxley, Hume, p. 55. 



PRESENT ASPECTS OF THE PROBLEM. 9 

move without muscles."^ And almost in our own 
day a later historian of philosophy, Morell,^ writes, 
" The philosophy of Hume, as a whole, originated and 
perished with himself. A more partial and less dar- 
ing skepticism might, probably, have gained many 
followers ; but it is the inevitable result of every 
system professing universal unbelief to destroy it- 
self." It has been reserved for our own time to 
assign to Hume a wholly different position in the 
history of thought, and to recognize him as one 
whose principles have proved the most fertile seeds 
in the hot-bed of modern opinion. His skepticism 
marks one of the great turning-points in modern 
speculation. His reasonings respecting the ques- 
tion of the existence of God are commended as the 
single example in our literature, until very recent 
times, of a passionless and searching examination of 
that great problem. He is praised for having un- 
flinchingly inquired into the profoundest of all ques- 
tions, and of having dared to give the result of his 
inquiries without fear or favor. And, with some 
criticism of subordinate parts of his system, its 
strain and method receive unqualified approval 
from his latest admiring biographer. " One can but 
suspect," says Huxley, " that his shadowy and in- 
consistent theism was the expression of his desire 
to rest in a state of mind which distinctly excluded 
regation, while it included as little as possible of 
affirmation respecting a problem which he felt to be 
hopelessly insoluble." ^ 

1 [Sir J. Mackintosh, " Dissertation," etc., Miscellaneous Works, 
(London, 1846), vol. i., p. 137.] 

2 [J. D. Morell, An Historical and Critical Review of the Speculative 
Philosophy of Europe in the Nineteenth Century, 2 ed., vol. i., p. 353-] 

2 Huxley, Hume, p. 155. 



10 THE THEISTIC ARGUMENT. 

Hume's philosophy did not, then, perish with him. 
On the contrary, of no great English thinker may it 
be more truly said that he lives in the thought of the 
present day. His precise conclusions on some points 
may not be accepted, and in some instances may 
even be forgotten. Those who applaud his max- 
ims seem not always to remember that he was not 
less a skeptic in philosophy than in theology, and 
that if he calls in question the validity of the reason- 
ing by which we seek to establish the divine exis- 
tence, he just as much throws doubt upon our belief 
in the invariable order of the universe. It is not his 
method so much as his spirit and temper that make 
him so acceptable to the modern mind. He is the 
recognized prophet of that new dispensation which 
finds so many representatives in the science and in 
the literature of the present day ; which holds that, 
respecting the greatest problems and ultimate issues 
of human life, we have no means of arriving at any 
conclusions, and that it is the part of wisdom to 
banish them from sight, and busy ourselves wilh 
what lies within our sphere, seeking our highest re- 
ward in our own improvement, or in the future 
growth of the race. There is a passage in one of 
the letters of Goethe that so exactly reflects this 
temper that I may quote it here. Writing to Knebel, 
he says, ^' The natural sciences are so human, so 
true, that I wish every one luck who occupies him- 
self with them. They teach us that the greatest, the 
most mysterious, and the most magical phenomena, 
take place openly, orderly, simply, unmagically ; they 
must finally quench the thirst of poor ignorant man 
for the dark extraordinary, by showing him that the 
extraordinary lies so near, so clear, so familiar, and 



PRESENT ASPECTS OF THE PROBLEM. 1 1 

SO determinately true. I daily beg my good genius 
to keep me from all other observation and learning, 
and guide me always in the calm definite path which 
the student of nature has to tread." His long career 
was the realization of this ideal. What was sore and 
and weary in life, what was humiliating in his own 
experience, he resolutely put aside ; neither the 
wrongs which his own selfishness inflicted nor the 
woes of his unhappy country could turn him from 
the ''calm definite path" in which he was resolved 
to tread. To make the most of himself was his con- 
stant aim. Closing his eyes to the perplexing prob- 
lems and tormenting mysteries of life, he dedicated 
his whole strength to the knowable and the attaina- 
ble and gave up all wild desire for what lay beyond. 
The theory of nescience, or, in other words, the 
doctrine that the limit of human knowledge is the 
investigation of the laws of phenomena, and that 
all inquiry into their ultimate causes is illegitimate, 
defended with so much acuteness by Hume on 
purely metaphysical grounds, has derived an im- 
mense impulse in our own day from its supposed 
coincidence with the conclusions of physical science. 
This is, in fact, the grand characteristic of the specu- 
lative thought of the present time. Metaphysics has 
been transmuted into science, and what was for- 
merly the subtle speculation of abstract thinkers 
now claims to rest on the positive basis of reasoned 
truth. As a result, the doctrine has gained a sudden 
and wide acceptance. It has passed from the hands 
of the recluse thinker to the lecture platform and 
the pages of the popular review. The brilliant dis- 
coveries of modern science are supposed to be ar- 
rayed on its side, and it is presented to the 



12 THE THEISTIC ARGUMENT. 

world in alliance with the most distinctive and most 
admired intellectual tendencies of modern society. 
The most eloquent of scientific teachers have uttered 
this as their final word. 

Thus Hume asserted that " what we call a mind 
is nothing but a heap or collection of different per- 
ceptions, united together by certain relations, and 
supposed, though falsely, to be endued with a per- 
fect simplicity and identity." A modern school, 
insisting that psychology must be based simply on 
physiology,, have developed this idea, and by bring- 
ing mental laws under the more general physical 
laws of correlation. Conservation, and evolution, have 
deduced the will from nervous force, and have at last 
reached the startling conclusion that thought, mem- 
ory, reason, conscience, all that has shaped itself 
through successive generations in social forms, in 
art, in philosophy, in religion, many ages ago was 
latent in a fiery cloud. In this view the human 
will, no longer free, is reduced to the resultant 
force of a predetermined organization, transmitted 
from generation to generation with a cumulative 
power. The practical conclusion does not differ 
from that reached by the Scottish philosopher, but 
the grounds on which the conclusion rests seem to 
have received from this alliance with scientific re- 
sults an enormous reenforcement. 

Again, Hume threw doubt upon all reasoning 
from external nature in proof of a first cause. He 
was logically forced to admit the self-existence of 
the phenomenal universe. Still he was forced to 
this admission on purely metaphysical grounds. No 
scientific data existed in the eighteenth century 
which could be urged in support of such a theory. 



PRESENT ASPECTS OF THE PROBLEM. 1 3 

With the physical theories then accepted it may be 
questioned whether any more satisfactory solution 
of the complexity and harmony everywhere so con- 
spicuous in the material world was possible than the 
hypothesis of intelligence. But, in our own time, 
physical theory has been completely transformed, 
and to many scientists the doctrine of the self-ex- 
istence of the universe seems capable of scientific 
proof. The acceptance of the principle that energy 
is indestructible, that the amount of force in the 
universe is never greater and never less, and that 
the endless transformations of material things are 
but the shapes this masking spirit wears, supplies us 
with a theory which renders needless, we are as- 
sured, any further inquiry into an ultimate cause. 
Thus we reach the same practical result that Hume 
reached, but we reach it in a different way, and sci- 
ence becomes the handmaid of philosophy in teach- 
ing that the rational use of our intellectual faculties 
lies in confining ourselves to the realm of the sen- 
sible, and in relegating to the land of dreams all 
that lies beyond. The doctrine of the relativity of 
knowledge is held to preclude us from either affirm- 
ing or denying anything that lies outside the bounds 
of rigid scientific demonstration. In the words of 
one of its most eminent representatives, this doctrine 
teaches "that we have no knowledge of anything 
but phenomena, and our knowledge of phenomena is 
relative, not absolute. We know not the essence, 
nor the real mode of production, of any fact, but 
only its relations to other facts in the way of succes- 
sion or similitude. These relations are constant, 
that is, always the same in the same circumstances. 
The constant resemblances which bind phenomena 



14 THE THEISTIC ARGUMENT. 

together • are termed their laws. All phenomena, 
without exception, are governed by invariable laws, 
with which no volitions, either natural or supernatu- 
ral, interfere. The essential nature of phenomena, 
and their ultimate causes, whether efficient or final, 
are unknown and inscrutable to us." ^ 

The appalling array of consequences which are 
involved in the unqualified acceptance of this doc- 
trine cannot be fully realized unless we consider 
them a little in detail. And, here, let me say that 
nothing is further from my thought than the wish 
to cast reproach upon any system of thought by 
seeking to deduce consequences not fairly involved 
in it. In philosophical discussion we deal with rea- 
soned truth, and the truth or the falsity of any the- 
ory cannot be established by misrepresentation. I 
have no other purpose than to trace clearly the logi- 
cal inferences which follow from the acceptance of 
the proposition that the doctrine of the relativity of 
knowledge precludes us from either affirming or de- 
nying that anything exists beyond the region of 
investigation which science, in the sense of veri- 
fying facts which rest on the testimony of the senses, 
includes. It will be only necessary for me to sum 
up the past admissions of some of the recognized 
representatives of this theory. As we pass through 
the dreary desert to which they invite us, no rhetor- 
ical phrases will be needed to make us more con- 
scious of the fact that we are wandering in a region 
of desolation and death. 

According, then, to this view, the notion that the 
origin of things admits of being explained by the 
theory of theism any better than by the theory of 

^ Mill, quoted by Bo wen, Modern Philosophy, p. 266. 



PRESENT ASPECTS OF THE PROBLEM. 1 5 

atheism must be dismissed as conspicuously absurd ; 
the argument that the human heart requires a God 
is invalid, since even could such an inward necessity 
be demonstrated beyond a doubt, far from proving, 
it would not even render probable, any correspond- 
ing external existence. And if even theistic aspira- 
tions are held to point to God as their explanatory 
cause, the argument could only be admitted when 
the possibility of any explanation from mere natural 
causes had been excluded. So the argument from 
an intuitive belief must be given up, since if the be- 
lief were real it would only apply to an individual 
case, while it is certain that, for the vast majority of 
the race, such is not the fact. And so far as relates 
to the argument from a first cause, it would seem 
that our experience, to which we are indebted for 
the idea of cause, instead of furnishing an argument 
for a first cause is repugnant to it, and that the very 
essence of causation, as it exists within the limits of 
our knowledge, is incompatible with an absolute and 
uncaused cause. 

Proceeding further, we find that the argument for 
the divine existence derived from the existence of 
mind is as little worthy of attention. This argument 
consists in the reflection that the existence of our 
own intelligence is the most certain fact that our 
experience supplies, and one that demands an ade- 
quate cause for its explanation, and that such a cause 
can only be found in some other intelligence. But 
to this it is replied that there is no warrant for the 
assertion that mind must be either self-existing or 
caused by another mind. What we call matter and 
force are to all appearances eternal, and so far as 
experience goes, mind is invariably associated with 



1 6 THE THE IS TIC ARGUMENT. 

highly organized matter and distribution of force, 
and all results of science strengthen the conclusion 
that the grade of intelligence is invariably associated 
with a corresponding grade of cerebral development. 
It is nothing to the point to assert that it is incon- 
ceivable that matter and motion should produce con- 
sciousness, since the problem confessedly surpasses 
thought. While, lastly, the argument from the sup- 
posed freedom of the will, and the existence of the 
moral sense, is negatived by the theory of evolution 
and by the new ethics to which evolution has given 
birth. 

The argument from design, we are further told, 
affords us no more satisfactory grounds for proving 
the divine existence, since we have no means of 
ascertaining the subjective psychology of that Su- 
preme Mind whose existence the argument is meant 
to demonstrate. Apparent intellectual adaptations 
are perfectly valid indications of design, so long as 
their authorship is known to be confined to human 
intelligence, but when we pass the limits of experi- 
ence we can argue nothing of any other intelligence, 
even supposing it to exist. The argument from 
general laws dwindles to nothing in the face of the 
doctrine that matter and force have been eternal, 
and that all and every law follows, as a necessary 
consequence, from the persistence of force and the 
primary qualities of matter. For aught that specu- 
lative science can show to the contrary, the evolution 
of all the diverse phenomena of organic nature, of 
life, and of mind appears to be necessary and self- 
determined. Human intelligence, but nothing else, 
has been evolved. And so far as the human mind 
can see it can discover no need of a superior mind 



PRESENT ASPECTS OF THE PROBLEM. 1/ 

to explain the phenomena of existence. Man has 
no kith or kin in all this universe of being.^ 

It is needless to ask what is left when we have 
reached this result. We have our own thinking 
selves ; but thought is an evolution over which we 
have no control, our personal consciousness is simply 
a series of successive sensations and states ; we have 
no responsibility, we can have no relation to an in- 
visible w^orld. Morality and religion are alike empty 
terms. There is something, indeed, almost pathetic 
in Mr. Mill's recoil from a conclusion which makes 
such havoc of the sanctities of life, and in his pleas 
for a belief in God on the score of utility, even if it 
does not rest on any conclusive grounds. But the 
utmost concession to which this school can be 
brought, is the admission of an unknown and un- 
knowable power lying behind all phenomena. It 
may be said that in this view science and religion, 
instead of being hostile, are at one, since they both 
assume a cause, a permanent and all-pervading force. 
But under the law of evolution, the recognition of 
this force will vary with the consciousness of each 
generation. The so-called religious sentiment will 
have for its object of contemplation only the Infinite 
Unknowable. Of it it can only know that it can 
know nothing. 

A recent exponent of this philosophy ^ has sought 
to modify the doctrine of the unknowable, by devel- 
oping it into a definite system of scientifictlfeology. 
This, he assures us, is the most ennobling form of 
religion that mankind is destined ever to reach. It 
is represented as a system in which the most funda- 

1 Abridged from J. S. Mill, Theism, pp. 62, 102. 

2 [John Fiske, Out/mes of Cosmic Philosophy (1875).] 

2 



y 



1 8 THE THEISTIC ARGUMENT. 

mental truths of theism are taught, as necessary de- 
ductions from the highest truths of science ; a sys- 
tem in which the noblest of our aspirations and the 
most sublime of our emotions are supplied with a 
far more worthy and glorious object than has been 
supplied by any of the older forms of theism. Ac- 
cording to this view, on rigid scientific grounds, we 
must assume '' the existence of a power, to which no 
limit in space or time is conceivable, of which all 
phenomena presented in consciousness are manifes- 
tations, but which we can only know through these 
manifestations." But cosmic theism, when care- 
fully analyzed, will be found to involve no essential 
modification of the doctrine of the unknowable; for 
though the designation of the deity is retained, he 
is divested of all the attributes which give the des- 
ignation meaning. We have simply absolute being, 
devoid of personality, intelligence, and volition. 

Such an attempt of one of the disciples of this 
school to supply a deity divested of all anthropomor- 
phic elements, which linger in the accepted theolo- 
gies, and in harmony with the latest conclusions of 
scientific thought, is indeed chiefly interesting as 
furnishing cogent illustration of the reluctance with 
which the more thoughtful adherents of this school 
part with beliefs so endeared to the human heart. 
Thus, one who asserts, without the least hesitation, 
" that the hypothesis of mind in nature is as cer- 
tainly superfluous to account for any of its phenom- 
ena, as the scientific doctrine of the persistence of 
forces and the indestructibility of matter is certainly 
true," adds the touching confession, *' It is with the 
utmost sorrow that I find myself compelled to accept 
the conclusions here worked out, and nothing would 



PRESENT ASPECTS OF THE PROBLEM. 1 9 

have induced me to publish them save the strength 
of my conviction, that it is the duty of every mem- 
ber of society to give his fellows the benefit of his 
labors for whatever they may be worth. So far as 
the realization of individual happiness is concerned, 
no one can have a more lively perception than my- 
self of the possibly disastrous tendency of my work. 
And, forasmuch as I am far from being able to agree 
with those who affirm that the twilight doctrine of 
the ' new faith ' is a desirable substitute for the 
waning splendor of ' the old,' I am not ashamed to 
confess that with this virtual negation of God the 
universe has lost to me its soul of loveliness ; and 
although from henceforth the precept to * work while 
it is day,' will doubtless but gain an intensified force 
from the terribly intensified meaning of the words 
that, *the night cometh when no man can work,' yet 
when at times I think, as think at times I must, of 
the appalling contrast between the hallowed glory 
of that creed which once was mine, and the lonely 
mystery of existence as now I find it, at such times 
I shall ever feel it impossible to avoid the sharpest 
pang of which my nature is susceptible. I cannot 
but feel that for me, and for others who think as I 
do, there is a dreadful truth in these words of Ham- 
ilton : ' Philosophy having become a meditation, not 
merely of death, but of annihilation, the precept 
know thyself has become transformed into the ter- 
rific oracle to CEdipus. 

Mayest thou ne'er know the truth of what thou art.' " 1 

These confessions of a calm and acute adherent 
of the Agnostic school have an emphasis which the 
most convincing objections of an opponent could 
never equal. 

1 A Candid Examination of Theism, by Physicus (Boston, 1868). 



20 THE THE/STIC ARGUMENT. 

To comprehend the full import of the problem 
here presented, it is needful to observe that those 
who shrink from these conclusions of modern Ag- 
nosticism cannot justify their position by the view- 
that has been eloquently advocated that this demon- 
strated impotence of mere natural religion to solve 
the problem of the divine existence, and of human 
responsibility and immortality, only brings out in 
stronger relief the necessity of an authoritative rev- 
elation. This easy solution of the difficulty will not 
stand the test of examination. Such extreme reac- 
tion against the results of an irreligious sensational- 
ism is perfectly natural, and has hardly ever failed 
to show itself at crises when the deepest spiritual 
sentiments of mankind have received a shock, and 
the idea of a living God has been lost sight of in 
that of unconscious nature. Alarmed at what seem 
the results of rational investigation, this tendency 
throws discredit upon all operations of reason, and, 
by boldly turning the enemies' guns, aims to base 
the authority of revealed truth on this manifest im- 
potence of natural reason to establish any valid and 
indisputable foundations of belief. The most brill- 
iant illustration of this reaction was furnished in the 
passionate protest of Lamennais against the sensa- 
tional philosophy which constituted the speculative 
factor in the French Revolution. Disgusted with 
the petty aims which deluged society around him, 
he sought to force his countrymen into the ark of 
faith by destroying their confidence in all attempts 
of reason to solve spiritual problems. The senses, 
he cried, deceive us ; feeling is a continual series of 
doubts and illusions ; reason operates only on data 
furnished by the senses or feelings, and from these 



PRESENT ASPECTS OF THE PROBLEM. 2 1 

uncertain data draws the most contradictory conclu- 
sions. For man there is no reality either in his own 
processes or in the external world, there is nothing 
in which he has any right to believe unless he has 
some other ground than his own private sentiment, 
or his own individual consciousness. These ex- 
treme opinions are explicitly asserted by few at the 
present day ; yet so far as any definite meaning can 
be attached to Mr. Mallock's recent solution of the 
problem, "■ Is life worth living," it would seem to 
amount to this : appeal to external authority is the 
only refuge left us. 

But where shall that authority be found } 
Shall we make our appeal to a written revelation } 
But revelation rests on testimony ; its authority can 
only be established by appealing to certain tests in- 
dependent of itself. Unless every man blindly ac- 
cepts the traditions in which he has been born, — in 
which case the claims of one particular class of tra- 
ditions to be superior to any other could never 'be 
established, and the great historic religions of the 
world would stand side by side on an equal footing, — 
an appeal must be allowed to reason and to the moral 
intuitions. Shall we make our appeal to the visible 
church } But here we come into the presence of a 
great historical fact, the origin, the nature, the au- 
thority of which, all become at once subjects not 
only of legitimate but of imperative discussion. If 
we reduce this authority to the authority of univer- 
sal assent, we have still to ask the question where 
and how such universal assent is to be found, and 
thus become at once involved in a maze of inquiries 
which tax to the utmost our capacity of rational 
comparison and deduction. 



22 THE THEISTIC ARGUMENT. 

Hence natural and revealed religion must stand 
or fall together. We cannot, even in the most ex- 
treme subjection to an external authority, divest 
ourselves of an appeal to the moral and intellectual 
constitution of man. To say, as some devout men 
have said, that the problems of natural theology are 
insoluble, and that it is the part of wisdom to retire 
from a border-land so dimly irradiated by any cer- 
tain light, is in effect to concede all that modern 
Agnosticism has claimed. It is equally the surren- 
der of revealed truth and of church authority. I 
by no means claim that natural and revealed religion 
are throughout identical, and that we may not owe 
to revelation truths which the natural reason by no 
searching could find out ; I only mean that the two 
must correspond, and that natural religion furnishes 
the fundamental principles by which alone the truth 
of revealed religion can be certified. If it be dem- 
onstrated, beyond a doubt, that the human faculties 
cannot transcend the limits of the finite and the 
sensible, that the mind only dreams when it affects 
to recognize the unseen and the supernatural, the 
truth of any revelation becomes an idle question. 

The distinction between natural and revealed re- 
ligion is one not easily traced, though we are accus- 
tomed to have the terms placed in opposition, as if 
the relation between them were clearly defined. It 
seems not unlikely that they designate, after all, not 
different classes of truths, but simply different meth- 
ods in which these truths have been apprehended 
by mankind. What man has ascertained by the un- 
aided exercise of his own powers is termed natural ; 
what he has been brought to recognize through the 
medium of some assumed supernatural illumination 



PRESENT ASPECTS OF THE PROBLEM. 23 

is termed revealed; but the harmony of all truth 
with itself forbids us to suppose that, between these 
two classes of truths, supposing them really to exist, 
there can be any contradiction, or any lack of perfect 
correspondence. All truth, from whatever source 
derived, must be rational truth, though its rational 
grounds may not be apprehended by the mind, and 
we cannot resist the conclusion that, with the pro- 
gressive illumination and enlargement of the spir- 
itual faculties, this harmony of truth will be more 
clearly perceived, and thus the distinction between 
natural and revealed truth be gradually done away. 

Who, then, can draw the line between natural and 
revealed religion, as we see them actually existing 
before us } Who can say where one begins and 
where the other ends } Look at the most elevated 
and ennobling modern thought, that boasts its inde- 
pendence of revelation, and yet how many impulses 
of revealed truth may have unconsciously contrib- 
uted to give it shape ! And study the historical 
forms of revealed religion, and into them, too, how 
many elements may have entered that owed their ex- 
istence to a purely natural source ! The wider study 
of revealed religion has taught us to recognize every- 
where the working of natural elements ; and in the 
great tide of social and political and intellectual life 
around us, we seek in vain to discriminate them. 
The question of the relation between the two is a 
question in itself of the highest interest, but one 
that has no important bearing upon our present sub- 
ject; for the tendency of thought which we have to 
investigate is one that stands in antagonism to any 
recognition of the supernatural in nature or in hu- 
man life. All question as to the comparative value 



24 THE THEISTIC ARGUMENT. 

of revealed or natural religion fades into nothing 
before the momentous issue which is here so dis- 
tinctly presented. 

It is superfluous to add the remark that the issue 
here raised is one that covers the whole of human 
life, and goes to the very core of human society ; 
for, whatever be our opinion as to the grounds of re- 
ligious belief, the fact is incontestible that the sense 
of the supernatural has been in all ages the most 
potent factor in the development of character ; that 
it has supplied the great ideals of human action ; 
that it has furnished the controlling and sustaining 
motives in the diversified movement of human life. 
Whether a great truth, or only a delusion of man's 
imagination, it has lain at the roots of domestic, of 
social, and of political relations, and the proud 
structure of modern civilization is compacted of it. 
The history of the race, searched out in all its con- 
trasted aspects of brutal force, or of social order, 
shows no more universal and more unmistakable 
fact than that the human soul, whether impelled by 
blind superstition, or impelled by rational instincts, 
has reposed on the conviction of a supernatural or- 
der, and recognized in things seen and temporal 
the evidences, obscure or distinct, of things unseen 
and eternal. The literature of nations speaks one 
voice in its testimony on this point ; and what is lit- 
erature but the expression of the deepest, fullest 
conviction of the human heart } Let us listen to 
the supreme singers who have set to music the sov- 
ereign thoughts of mankind. Poetry, Aristotle tells 
us, is more instructive and weighty than history 
even, because it deals with truth in its universal, 
forms. I have already quoted a passage from Goe- 



PRESENT ASPECTS OF THE PROBLEM. 2$ 

the in illustration of his purpose to seek inward 
peace by resolutely shutting his eyes to the great 
problems of the supra-sensible world ; but Goethe, 
versed as he was in the literature of so many na- 
tions, seems strangely to have forgotten that litera- 
ture in its noblest forms has always dealt with the 
great problems of life and destiny. It is the per- 
petual recurrence of these familiar chords that gives 
the best literature its perennial freshness, and re- 
duces all differences of ancient and modern to a 
superficial distinction. The sublime strains of Job 
find their motive in an unappeasable curiosity of man 
to pierce the darkness that rounds off his little life, 
and to see himself in his true relation to a universal 
and eternal order. Revolting from the meagre the- 
ory prevailing among the Hebrews of his own time, 
which saw in human suffering the exact measure 
and equivalent of human guilt, the soul of the right- 
eous man asserts a larger solution. He seeks refuge 
in the thought that the disorder and misery which 
reproach this present system are parts of a plan not 
yet revealed. So the Greek tragedy hinges on the 
recognition of man's relation to the supernatural 
powers. And in him who, more than any other, 
held the mirror up to nature, we find the constant 
recognition of the same principle. And, in Shake- 
speare, this is all the more impressive because of 
his own ambiguous relation to any definite form of 
belief. Standing on the water-shed of two great 
epochs, a new religious and a new political world 
struggling around him into being, he held himself 
strangely aloof from either. The splendor of the 
Elizabethan Renaissance was fading in the solemn 
presence of the impending Puritan revolution, yet 



26 THE THEISTIC ARGUMENT. 

we search in vain the pages of the great dramatist 
for any hint of his relation to the questions of his 
day. For anything he has left us, we should be at 
a loss to decide whether he was Catholic or Protes- 
tant. The party questions discussed around him 
have left no mark on the great creations of his gen- 
ius. We are wholly in the dark as to his positive 
belief. *'To die " is to go "we know not where." ^ 

But when he uncovers the springs of human ac- 
tion, when he sounds the depths of human nature, 
when he unravels the workings of human conscience, 
when he draws man in his most hidden moods, in 
his most anguishing experiences of doubt, of terror, 
of remorse, he makes him walk along a path that 
derives all its mystery and meaning from its sugges- 
tion of the supernatural. To be, or not to be, may 
remain an unsolved enigma, yet conscience cannot 
throw off the dread of something after death. Ham- 
let holds us, not as a son, not as a lover, but as one 
brought suddenly abreast the dark mystery of exist- 
ence. What links him so strongly to our sympathies 
is the fact that he forgets little Denmark, and be- 
comes suddenly akin to all his kind. He rises from 
the concrete to the abstract, and not one ghastly 
crime alone, but the troubled order of the world is 
what fills his gaze. He is irresolute, not from lack 
of will, but because his mind lies all abroad. He can 
avenge his father's murder, but what will be the 
good of it } There runs through all his greatest 
dramas this sense of man's kinship with the infinite 
and eternal. Thus in Macbeth it is not the death 
of the victim, but the remorse of the murderer, that 
stands out ; not that Duncan sleeps, but that Mac- 
beth shall sleep no more. 

1 \Measiire for MeasurCy Act iii., Sc. i.] 



PRESENT ASPECTS OF THE PROBLEM. 2/ 

I have allowed myself this digression not for the 
purpose of advancing any argument in favor of be- 
lief in the supernatural, for that belongs to a later 
stage of our discussion, but simply for the purpose of 
making as plain as possible, at the outset, the grav- 
ity of the questions which we are about to consider. 
I wish to show that, while the definite problems of 
natural theology are the same to-day as in the days 
of Socrates, or that while in a sense, it is true, as 
Macaulay urges, that natural theology is not a pro- 
gressive science, and that the early Greeks had pre- 
cisely the same evidences, in the structure of the 
universe, of the existence of a Supreme Being, or of 
the immortality of the soul, that lie before an ob- 
server of the present day, still the aspects of the 
discussion have been essentially changed. Doubts 
which, at the outset, were purely speculative, have 
been transferred to the domain of reasoned truth, 
and the ascertained principles of the physical uni- 
verse have been summoned with decisive effect to 
the solution of metaphysical problems. The validity 
of this process involves questions which the ancient 
thinkers were never called upon to consider. 

And while new factors have thus been introduced 
into the problem, the problem itself, through the 
growth of modern civilization, has gained a new im- 
port. Modern life owes its distinctive character to 
its strongly emphasized sense of man's relation to a 
supernatural order. This, more than anything else, 
marks the contrast between modern life and "the 
most high and palmy state of ancient society." Mod- 
ern civilization, in every aspect in which we consider 
it, confesses the operative presence of a power which 
the ancients, at best, only dimly recognized. In 



28 THE THE IS TIC ARGUMENT. 

domestic and social life, in laws, in literature, in 
poetry, in art, we cannot miss it. The import of life 
has been everywhere measured by its recognized 
relation to spiritual and immortal destinies. Hence, 
while in many points the problem of human exist- 
ence may seem to-day the same that it seemed to the 
ancient world, yet in the momentous issues involved 
in the problem it is not the same. The surrender 
of faith in the supernatural involves vastly more for 
us than it involved for them. • For them it was the 
loss of a castle in Spain, for us it is the loss of a 
heritage around which the most hallowed memories 
of life are clustered. 

It is wholly impossible to measure the revolution 
that would be caused in modern society by a general 
renunciation of faith in unseen things. No revolu- 
tion that has ever taken place in the world's history 
can be likened to it. It would be a revolution affect- 
ing man in all his conditions of development, in 
all his relations to his fellows, in all his habits of 
thought, all his motives of action, all his ideals 
of conduct. Where it would land him no reason- 
ings drawn from other ages, or other conditions of 
society, would enable us to predict. Those who look 
forward with complacency to such a result have ap- 
pealed to some of the eastern religions in proof of 
the fact that powerful creeds have flourished ''which 
have omitted all that makes the doctrine of a fut- 
ure state valuable in the eyes of its supporters," 
and "systems of pure human ethics may be found 
divorced from the existence of God," but we cannot 
reason so easily from eastern to western results of 
thought. The doctrines of Buddhism are profoundly 
mystical in their character, and owe their popular 



PRESENT ASPECTS OF THE PROBLEM. 29 

success to maxims which the scientific unbelief of 
Europe expressly repudiates. It is true that Buddh- 
ism, like modern agnosticism, repudiates any per- 
sonal God, and any conscious immortality. So far 
they would seem to be precisely alike. Yet we can- 
not reason from the effect of such a creed on an 
inactive, contemplative race, profoundly impressed 
with the misery of life, and reckoning annihilation 
the supreme boon, to its effect on a society full of 
energy and action, resolute in the accomplishment 
of great aims, prizing life, and eager to put its oppor- 
nities to the highest use. Western civilization is 
instinct with convictions and with hopes respecting 
human life and human destiny that, as far as we can 
see, have never stirred the drowsy East. To have 
all these snatched away is not to unite us to the 
passive mysticism of Oriental society, but to launch 
us on a wholly new experiment. Such is the vast 
import of the problem with which we have to deal. 
We have to look at it in aspects which were never 
even suggested to ancient thinkers, and we have to 
approach it with a sense of its momentous and far- 
reaching consequences such as the most penetrating 
intellect among them could never have realized. 

I have termed the following lectures a discussion 
of the theistic argument rather than a discussion of 
theism, because what I have in mind is not theism, 
meaning by that belief in the existence of a Su- 
preme Being, but simply the intellectual or rational 
grounds upon which such belief may be based. The- 
ism, considered as a temper or attitude of mind, 
has its origin in many sources. There are very few, 
if there are any, with whom belief in God is simply 
the result of logical conviction. In the actual shape 



30 THE THEISTIC ARGUMENT. 

in which this belief sways so many souls it is the 
result of all the forces by which human character is 
fashioned. It is a conviction springing from spirit- 
ual needs, determined by training, sanctioned by tra- 
dition. Its practical and governing power has very 
little to do with the controversies that have raged 
respecting it. It is a conviction cherished as part of 
their own being by countless multitudes, who have 
never asked themselves on what ground it should be 
received. But I propose to confine myself strictly to 
its rational grounds, and to seek to ascertain to what 
extent these have been modified by recent scientific 
theories. 

And, without anticipating my argument, I may 
permit myself to say that the aim of this discussion 
will be to show that the rational grounds on which 
belief in the existence of a Supreme Being must be 
rested, have not been essentially modified by modern 
thought. No doubt the most profound alteration of 
scientific opinion in our time is connected with the 
doctrine of evolution, in its wide-spread application to 
physical and moral phenomena. With the various 
forms of this theory we shall have most to do in the 
evenings before us. In the conclusions that have 
been deduced from this theory, the most formidable 
antagonism to faith in the supernatural, is supposed 
to lie. But, if I do not wholly fail of the end I have 
in view, I shall show you, before we conclude, not 
only that this theory stands in no necessary antag- 
onism to the doctrine of theism, but that the view 
of nature, and of natural operations which it en- 
forces, has some striking points of harmony with 
the truths not only of natural but of revealed relig- 
ion. That it results in atheism is a wholly ground- 
less and gratuitous assumption. 



PRESENT ASPECTS OF THE PROBLEM. 3 1 

With a single additional reflection I close these in- 
troductory remarks. We have heard much said, in 
recent days, of the pursuit of truth for its own sake, 
and surely no pursuit can be nobler, no pursuit can 
be more alluring to an eager and ingenuous mind. 
To throw away all lesser considerations, to forget 
ourselves even, and all that relates merely to our 
own personal welfare, in the unselfish search after 
undiscovered principles, to cast every weight of mere 
private interest aside as we climb the lofty summits 
that lift themselves before our enraptured gaze, — 
what more worthy temper than this can befit the sin- 
cere seeker after truth ? Is not the pursuit of truth, 
without regard to consequences, our highest duty ? 
Should not truth be independent of feeling, indepen- 
dent even of hope ? Will not the genuine worship- 
per press on in whatever path opens before him, 
"with his eyes open, with his head erect." "To be 
strong and of good courage," we are told, is our only 
watchword. We are bound by the laws of our intel- 
lectual being to honest inquiry. With the possible 
consequences of this inquiry we have no concern. 
In courageous search alone the soul finds its highest 
function and its best reward. 

It may be doubted whether this is true. It may be 
most seriously questioned whether the highest truth 
should be thus sought in the interest of mere intel- 
lectual curiosity. This rule may suffice when we 
seek for truth in some of its more definite and lim- 
ited forms. The mathematician who sets out to solve 
an equation, needs only to have his mental parts alert 
The chemist may trust his mere intellectual facul- 
ties when applying his tests. Emotion, passion, sym- 
pathy, have no place in such restricted fields. But 



32 THE THE IS TIC ARGUMENT. 

the maxim fails when we study the more mysterious 
and far-reaching problems that cover the whole na- 
ture and destiny of man. Thetemper proper to mere 
scientific inquiry will not suffice us here. Logic 
leads us up to a certain point, but at this point it 
leaves us in the lurch. The motives proper to 
scientific investigation by no means include all the 
legitimate impulses to inquiry. '' After all," says 
Cardinal Newman, " man is not a reasoning animal : 
he is a seeing, feeling, contemplating, acting ani- 
mal." And in the pursuit of the highest truth not 
one faculty, but all faculties need to be enlisted. 

And even were it possible thus to pursue the 
highest truth as a mere exercise of the intellect, 
and to separate the search after it from all con- 
sideration of consequences, it may be still more 
doubted whether our progress would be helped by 
it ; whether the mere intellect, could it be di- 
vorced from the other faculties, would be any more 
trustworthy in its operations. It by no means fol- 
lows that in the sphere of spiritual truth the mind 
is at its best, and that its conclusions are most to be 
relied upon, when left thus solitary and naked, like 
Adam before the creation of Eve. In its perfect 
state the intellect needs to be wedded to the moral 
sense. It is an old maxim that " wonder is a highly 
philosophical affection," and no one who recognizes 
the fact that man's nature is a unit can for a mo- 
ment doubt that his faculties are at their most per- 
fect play when this mutual adjustment is most com^ 
plete. In other words, the highest rational state 
must be at the same time a moral state, so that the 
maxim is unquestionably sound that faith, in its best 
analysis, is an eminent act of reason, and that rea- 
son finds its normal completion in faith. 



PRESENT ASPECTS OF THE PROBLEM. 33 

I am well aware that some recent writers are fond 
of insisting on the distinction between what they 
term the objective and the subjective methods, and 
that the great superiority of later over earlier in- 
quirers is to be attributed to the fact that they have 
learned to confine themselves rigorously to the for- 
mer, in other words, that they have learned to look 
at truth as wholly independent of themselves, and 
to study it purely for its own sake. Without rais- 
ing the question whether this be the fact, and 
whether modern investigators, as a class, show that 
they are thus exempt from human passions, I ven- 
ture wholly to doubt whether such purely objective 
methods would furnish the means by which the 
highest merits of thinking can be secured ; whether 
a spirit of inquiry, thus emptied of the universal 
interests and emotions which belong to man, not 
merely as a thinking and reasoning, but as a feeling, 
hoping, believing being, can supply the highest and 
most earnest impulses to inquiry. Surely the whole 
history of the race is proof that man has been im- 
pelled to his most earnest searchings after truth not 
by mere intellectual, but always by moral impulses. 

And on this point I am glad to appeal to the sup- 
port of one who will not be suspected of any exces- 
sive bias in favor of religious truth, but whose state- 
ments relating to it are singularly clear and accu- 
rate : *' Curiosity determined by natural sentiments 
and emotions," says the late Chauncey Wright, "sub- 
jective curiosity, is the cause of a culture coexten- 
sive with civilization, long preceding the growth 
of science, and constituting all that is peculiar to 
civilized life except the material arts. However 
meanly the conclusions of theological and metaphys- 
3 



34 THE THEISTIC ARGUMENT. 

ical operations may appear, when tried by the ob- 
jective standard of science, they, too, have their 
superiorities, by the test of which science becomes 
in turn insignificant. Unverified conclusions, vague 
ideas, crude fancies they may be, but they certainly 
are the products of activities which constitute more 
of human happiness and human worth than the nar- 
row material standards of science have been able to 



measure. 



1 



After these striking words, I do not shrink from 
expressing my own conviction that the benefit which 
every one of us may derive from the following dis- 
cussion will depend very largely on the temper of 
mind with which we approach its solemn themes. 
We shall discuss mysteries which have perplexed 
the wisest thinkers ; we shall deal with questions 
which lend our human lives all their meaning and 
value. We shall only deceive ourselves if we think 
there are no difficulties in the path we have to 
climb. It is impossible to separate our inquiry 
from issues so vast. I repeat, with added emphasis, 
what I said at the beginning, that the problems be- 
fore us are not problems of philosophy, but prob- 
lems of life. We are not idly gazing at a landscape, 
pleased for the moment with its alternate play of 
light and shadow, but we are pilgrims treading a 
path where a false step may ruin our most cher- 
ished hopes. To profess indifference to the result 
is to give the lie to the finest instincts of our na- 
ture. 

1 Philosophical Discussions y pp. 51, 52. 



LECTURE 11. 

THE RELATIVITY OF KNOWLEDGE. 

Perhaps some who are present here this evening 
can remember when a famous lecturer stood forth, 
in this very city, fo vindicate the new views, which, 
more than a generation ago, were provoking so much 
discussion. These views, he declared, were not new, 
but the oldest of thoughts cast into the mould of a 
new time. In the style which marked him as a con- 
summate master of the highest of all arts, — the art 
of using our mother tongue, — he portrayed the two 
great schools into which the thinking men of every 
age have been divided. These two schools were the 
materialists and the idealists : according to the first, 
all our knowledge is founded on external experience ; 
according to the second, the source of knowledge 
must be sought in the soul itself. The first makes 
the starting-point of thought the impressions made 
on the senses ; wtiile the second claims that the 
thoughts which enable us to classify and arrange the 
impressions on the senses must be traced to a source 
which the senses cannot affect. To the first, the 
world of fact is the only real world ; while the sec- 
ond insists that only in the world of ideas do we 
come in contact with the true, the absolute, the eter- 
nal. To the enthusiastic hearers, who drank in his 
honeyed words, the speaker seemed the prophet of 
a new dispensation ; and, the disciples of his gospel 



36 THE THEISTIC ARGUMENT. 

confidently pictured a near time when the ideal would 
be recognized as the alone real, when the standard 
of measurement would be found in the mind itself, 
when society, government, art, religion, would be 
estimated solely with reference to this, and all the 
teeming activities of life be viewed as an endless 
stream flowing from this invisible fountain. Even 
the moral code would find here its springs. This in- 
ner life was a law unto itself ; man was best when 
allowed the largest liberty. The mind fashioned its 
circumstances; if its thoughts were changed they 
transformed its conditions. The best that could be 
asked for man, was that this spiritual principle in 
him should be suffered to work itself out. In the 
creed of the new school the first place was given to 
the intuitions. Hence it hastened to avow its belief 
in the supra-sensible ; the soul, it affirmed, could 
come into direct contact with the invisible ; and was 
open, at all times, to the influx of the All-knowing 
Spirit. 

The sage who preached this ideal philosophy with 
so much applause, still lives among us, but the times 
have changed. The age of the transcendentalist is 
gone, and the age of the scientist has come. The 
eager thought of the time no longer expends itself 
in the shadowy region of the intuition, but follows 
the pathway of clearly ascertained fact. Instead of 
ravishing itself with immediate visions of the abso- 
lute, it denies that the absolute, even conceding its 
existence, can become a legitimate object of reflec- 
tion. The new age, so confidently heralded by the 
prophets of a generation back, has not dawned. Ex- 
perience, instead of holding a subordinate place, has 
been in turn raised to the chief rank ; and philosophy, 



THE RELATIVITY OF KNOWLEDGE. 37 

no longer seeking to lay its foundations in regions 
not subject to the illusions of sense, makes its boast, 
not only of regarding sense as the starting-point, 
but of excluding any other source of knowledge. 
Mind is no more a self-subsisting centre of energy 
and life, but is reduced to a series of sensations, 
conditioned in all its action by its physical sur- 
roundings. 

Let me not seem to confound the coarse mate- 
rialism which Emerson had in mind, with the subtle 
theories of physical force with which we are familiar. 
In our day materialism has assumed a new meaning, 
and in the conception of an indestructible and cease- 
lessly acting energy, underlying the phenomena of 
the external world, we seem to have the dividing line 
between the material and the spiritual almost wiped 
out. A conception of matter which insists upon rec- 
ognizing in it the ''promise and potency of all life," 
which tells us that in the nebulous gases, of which 
the worlds were formed, there lay latent all that 
afterwards worked itself out in " Hamlet," in " Para- 
dise Lost," in the " Principia " of Newton, is evi- 
dently a conception very unlike that against which 
the transcendentalists protested ; but so far as re- 
lates to the question of the limitation of human 
knowledge, the issue remains unchanged. The old 
problem, which the transcendentalists so confidently 
solved, still stares us in the face, — the problem 
whether we have any certain knowledge beyond 
that derived, either directly or indirectly, from ex- 
perience; and whether, from the things that are 
seen, we can argue with any assurance to the things 
that are unseen. 

To understand clearly the position of the school 



38 THE THEISTTC ARGUMENT. 

which now prevails, we must bear in mind the 
greatly extended meaning given to the term expe- 
rience. The so-called experiential method by no 
means restricts itself to the enumeration of partic- 
ulars, and classification of sensations, which was 
included in the old empiricism. The range of what 
is known is extended far beyond what is simply 
seen and felt. Not only the direct impressions upon 
the senses, but the indirect representations, in other 
words, the inferences from the impressions of sense 
which are capable of being verified by rigid scien- 
tific method, are all included within its legitimate 
scope. And not only the experiences of the indi- 
vidual, but the accumulated and transmitted expe- 
rience of the race, organized in language, condensed 
in axioms, the inherited habits of apprehending truth 
attested in the whole history of man, all this varied, 
multiplied, constantly augmenting product, goes to 
swell the vast aggregate to which the term expe- 
rience is now applied, and to constitute the subject- 
matter from which the results of thought may be 
logically deduced. 

Or, stated more precisely, " whatever conceptions 
can be reached through logical extensions of expe- 
rience, and can be shown to be conformable with it, 
are legitimate products, capable of being used as 
principles for further research." ^ 

On the contrary, whatever lies beyond the limits 
of experience, and claims another origin than that 
of induction or deduction from clearly ascertained 
facts, can never be the proper object of scientific 
research, and can result only in vain strife of words. 
Science, in short, deals with things and their rela- 

1 G. H. Lewes, Problems of Life and Mind, ist Series, vol. i., p. i6. 



THE RELATIVITY OF KNOWLEDGE. 39 

tions as they are known to us, or as their existence 
is logically inferred ; beyond this line we plunge into 
that ''vast Serbonian bog" where "armies whole" of 
metaphysicians have floundered and sunk ; we deal 
with things and relations not known to us ; we sub- 
stitute for the constructions of science the con- 
structions of the imagination. Yet, with this great 
extension given to the meaning of the term "expe- 
rience," the problem remains precisely as before : 
how do we pass from thought to being ? what ground 
of assurance have we that the intellectual process 
within us has a corresponding reality without ? 

Can we pass outside the limits of our own expe- 
rience ? This is the problem that stares us in the 
face at the threshold of our inquiry, and unless we 
can reach some solution of this, any further inves- 
tigation will be idle. On this the foundations of 
natural religion rest ; for if we are shut up to the 
creations of our own thought, if we have no means 
of ascertaining whether anything exists outside our- 
selves and independent of our own mental processes, 
religion is reduced to mere delusion. It does not 
matter with what rigorous scientific method we pur- 
sue our investigations and deduce our inferences ; it 
does not matter with what imposing array of at- 
tributes we clothe the ideal construction of our 
thought ; if we cannot rest, at last, on the firm con- 
viction of a corresponding reality, all our labor and 
pains will be thrown away. In the strict and proper 
sense, we are directly cognizant of no facts but facts 
of consciousness. Our inner experience is the start- 
ing-point. Reasoning from what we have given 
here, how far may we push our conclusions into the 
sphere outside ourselves .'' This is the first ques- 
tion. 



40 THE THEISTIC ARGUMENT. 

It is evident that the problem is precisely the 
same, whether we speak of the world of matter or 
the world of spirit. Of neither have we any direct 
and immediate knowledge. Of neither can we dem- 
onstrate the existence in the sense in which we 
demonstrate the truths of mathematics. They lie 
outside ourselves, and any assumption that we make 
about them only lands us in manifest absurdity. No 
conception seems at first sight more simple than 
that of matter. No child doubts for a moment what 
his senses report respecting it. But are all the parts 
of a seemingly solid body in actual contact } We 
need only to call to mind that every portion of mat- 
ter is compressible, to be forced to the admission 
that the molecules of which matter is composed are 
separated from each other by tracts of empty space. 
But are these atoms divisible or indivisible } If we 
assume the former, we are confronted with the in- 
finite divisibility of matter ; if we assume the latter, 
we have an indivisible atom ; and, in either case, we 
have a conclusion which baffles human comprehen- 
sion. We deal with a problem which involves us in 
endless contradictions. 

The principle of the relativity of knowledge is as- 
serted as one of the best established conclusions of 
modern psychology. We reach it, we are told, not 
only from actual experience, of our inability to con- 
ceive either of matter or spirit, but from an analysis 
of our own mental processes. What do we mean 
when we say that we know any given fact t Do we 
mean more than that we have perceived either its 
likeness or its unlikeness to similar facts which we 
have previously investigated. In other words, things 
are known only by being classified ; and what we 



THE RELATIVITY OF KNOWLEDGE. 4 1 

cannot classify remains for us in the realm of the 
unknown. A thing is perfectly known only when 
it is in all respects like things previously observed ; 
and when it has no attribute in common with any- 
thing else it must be absolutely unknown. Or, if 
we view the process under a different but correla- 
tive aspect, and recognize not likeness, but unlike- 
ness, we are brought to the same result. To be 
conscious, we must be conscious of something, and 
that something can only be known as that which it 
is by being distinguished from that which it is not. 
Thus all knowledge is possible only in the form of a 
relation.^ 

In itself considered, this principle settles nothing 
as to the limits of human knowledge. It does not de- 
termine how far the mind may push its inquisitive 
search into the region of the unknown, but simply 
declares that as far as the mind goes it must follow a 
certain method. It does not affirm that we can know 
nothing of the Absolute, but only that the Absolute 
must be revealed to us under the conclusions and 
limitations of our own consciousness ; it does not 
say that the universe around us and above us must 
remain inscrutable, but simply that the universe can 
be known to us only in accordance with the laws of 
our own spiritual nature. To other" beings, consti- 
tuted in a different way, it may be disclosed in 
wholly different aspects, but to us it can be made 
known only under the conditions of our human con- 
sciousness. In other words, when we affirm the 
relativity of knowledge we simply affirm a method, 
we do not fix a limit. How far the mind, while rec- 
ognizing this condition, may legitimately go, is a 
problem that remains still to be decided. 

1 Fiske, Cosmic Philosophy, vol. i., p. 14. 



42 THE THEISTIC ARGUMENT. 

But, with this principle established, that we can- 
not directly know anything save modifications of our 
own consciousness, what grounds have we for be- 
lieving in the existence of anything external to our- 
selves ? This was the problem with which Berkeley 
grappled ; and there is a sense, Mr. Mill truly says, 
in which all modern philosophy may be said to date 
from the good Bishop, to whom Pope ascribed ''every 
virtue under heaven." His theory of vision is per- 
haps the most important contribution made to the 
science of psychology in modern times. When first 
published it appeared so novel and impossible that 
it was scouted as a paradox, but it is now accepted 
by every scientific school. Briefly stated, it amounts 
to this, that there is no resemblance whatever be- 
tween the visible and tangible qualities of things, 
and that, without the aid of our other senses, our 
eyes could not inform us that anything existed out- 
side ourselves. The mind invests the colors and 
gradations of light and shade with the various modi- 
fications of size and shape, and disposes them at ap- 
propriate distances, so that in fact we learn to see 
precisely as we learn to walk. Common experience 
shows us that what we call seeing is in reality a 
complicated act of judgment. It is not the eye, but 
the mind, that sees. 

While the researches of modern physiologists have 
not affected the truth of Berkeley's theory, they have 
set it forth in a still more striking light. For we 
now know with certainty that it is not the image 
formed on the retina that the mind perceives, but 
that the physical process of vision must be traced 
much farther back. The eye simply receives and 
measures the impressions made on it by the waves 



THE RELATIVITY OF KNOWLEDGE. 43 

of light, precisely as the thermometer and the bar- 
ometer measure and register meteorological phenom- 
ena. Its function is merely to collect the data out of 
which vision is constructed. The image formed on 
the retina is not transmitted to the brain. What is 
sent is simply the sensation excited. Innumerable 
waves of nervous energy are rolled inward to the 
next inter cranial station (the tubercula qtiadrigem- 
ina). Here is the centre of the sense of sight, 
though not of the highest form of vision. The 
optic tubercles take up the process of vision where 
the eye leaves it, and elaborate and coordinate 
visual impressions. We pass to a third station (the 
angular gyms), before we reach the true sphere of 
vision. Here, deep in the recesses of the brain, the 
sensations, transmitted through all the curious ap- 
paratus we have described, are first brought into 
direct relation with the mind. 

The line of thought so acutely followed out in his 
theory of vision was what led Berkeley to doubt the 
existence of a material universe. For, if the world of 
sight is a phantasm, and exists only in the mind, what 
reason have we to suppose that the world reported to 
us by the sense of touch has any real existence out- 
side ourselves } Only with regard to this one of the 
five senses can the question be ever raised. Sight, 
as we have seen, primarily tells us nothing, and the 
same may be asserted, without hesitation, of hearing, 
smell, and taste. They are simply effects produced 
on the mind, and of the causes which produce them 
we know nothing. So far as we can see, the nature 
of the effect depends far more on the constitution 
of the thing acted upon than on that of the thing act- 
ing. Only the sense of touch remains, which seems 



44 THE THE IS TIC ARGUMENT 

to connect us with an external world. But all that 
touch reveals is muscular resistance. For aught 
that we know, or ever can know, what we call mat- 
ter may be only the regular and uniform manifesta- 
tion of force, and of force we only know that which 
is the result of mind. Hence Berkeley inferred that 
the orderly and uniform phenomena of the external 
world were simply manifestations of an omnipresent 
mind. 

Berkeley does not deny ; on the contrary, he 
strongly affirms the uniformity of nature and the 
universal reign of law. ''That what I see, hear, and 
feel doth exist," says he, " that is to say, is perceived 
by me, I no more doubt than I do of my own being." ^ 
What he denied was the existence of an unknown 
something, lying behind phenomena, without sen- 
sible qualities itself, but capable of exciting the im- 
pressions of those qualities in the mind of the be- 
holder. In thus reducing matter to force, and then 
regarding force as nothing but will, the virtuous prel- 
ate strangely anticipated some of the most recent 
results of speculation. As he sat on " the hanging 
rocks " and gazed at the fair shore where Chan- 
ning afterwards wandered, he revolved the principle 
which Schopenhauer in our own time has rendered 
so familiar. But evidently this does not solve the 
problem, whether we can know anything of an ex- 
ternal world. It assumes that this world has no ex- 
istence, and this cuts but does not untie the knot. 
Accepting Berkeley's theory, we are shut up to one 
of two alternatives, either that the modifications of 
consciousness in the mind are determined directly 

] {Principles of Human Knowledge, P. i., 40 ( Works, ed. Fraser, vol. 
i-, P- I75-] 



THE RELATIVITY OF KNOWLEDGE. 45 

by the will of God, or that they are created by the 
mind itself. Berkeley chose the former, and in so 
doing, as he supposed, rested religion on its firmest 
basis. 

Himself a devout believer and writing in the inter- 
est of religion, Berkeley paved the way for skepti- 
cism. He had shown that we have no experience of 
anything outside ourselves independent of percep- 
tion; he had discarded the material universe as a 
figment of the imagination. Hume took up the dis- 
cussion at this point, and turned the guns from the 
world without to the world within. If matter was 
merely a figment, what reason was there to suppose 
that mind was more than a figment also } If it was 
unnecessary to infer the existence of any hidden 
something as a basis for material phenomena, why 
was any hidden something necessary to explain the 
phenomena of mind 1 In the external world, all that 
we have any experience of is impressions. In the 
inner world, all that we have any experience of is 
states of consciousness. In either sphere the exist- 
ence of anything beyond is a simple inference ; and 
what reason have we for making this inference in 
the one case more than in the other. Matter is an 
aggregate of impressions, mind is but a succession 
of impressions. Thus, by a single step, idealism was 
converted into skepticism. Respecting the real na- 
ture of things we know absolutely nothing. 

It was precisely at this point that Kant grasped 
the problem. To determine whether we have any 
other source of knowledge than that given in expe- 
rience, was the professed aim of the critical philos- 
ophy. Like Locke, of whom he appears as the suc- 
cessor and rival, the German philosopher undertook 



46 THE THEISTIC ARGUMENT. 

" to inquire into the origin, certainty, and extent of 
human knowledge ; " and as a means to this he sought 
to make a critical examination of the human mind, 
an accurate analysis of its principal cognitions and 
ideas. Hence the designation adopted for his sys- 
tem. His aim was to mediate between the school of 
intuition and the school of experience. Yet he does 
not compare the doctrines of those rival schools, 
but opens for himself a wholly new path. Giving 
up any consideration, at the outset, of the problems 
so long and so fruitlessly debated, he sought to go 
further back and make mind itself the subject of his 
inquiry. On account of the new method which he 
thus adopted, he likened himself to Copernicus, who 
finding that the motions of the heavenly bodies could 
not be explained by supposing the firmament to re- 
volve round the earth, reversed the whole theory of 
the solar system. '' Mind," he declared, " does not 
derive its primitive cognitions from nature, but im- 
poses them on nature." 

On interrogating consciousness, Kant satisfied 
himself that neither of the explanations that have 
been given could account for the phenomena pre- 
sented. On the one hand, the mind has a class of 
abstract ideas, — as of time, of space, of cause, — 
which could not be resolved into experience alone ; 
but, on the other, they could as little be regarded 
as absolutely independent of experience, since they 
are simply the necessary conditions of experience. 
There are not, therefore, two sources of knowledge, 
the intellect and the external world, but knowledge is 
the union of the two. All knowledge begins with ex- 
perience, for the faculty of cognition can be awakened 
into exercise in no other way than by means of objects 



THE RELATIVITY OF KNOWLEDGE. 47 

which affect the senses, and, by rousing the powers 
of understanding into activity, convert the mere raw 
material of the sensuous impression into that recog- 
nition of objects which is termed experience. But 
it does not follow that all knowledge arises from ex- 
perience, for it is possible that even our empirical 
knowledge may be the result of that which we re- 
ceive through the senses, and that which the faculty 
of cognition supplies. Against Locke, the German 
philosopher sought to prove that we have ideas in- 
dependent of experience; and, against Hume, that 
these ideas have a necessary and universal charac- 
ter. 

The great problem which the critical philosopher 
undertook to solve, as expressed in Kant's own 
phraseology, was the question, " How are synthetic 
judgments, a priori, possible t'' What he means is 
this : All our judgments may be divided into two 
classes, analytic and synthetic. An analytic judg- 
ment is simply a definition, as when we say that a 
triangle has three sides. This statement is simply 
explicative ; it adds nothing to our knowledge. 
When, however, we predicate some attribute of a 
thing not involved in the conception, as that iron is 
hard, we express an additional truth, and have a 
synthetic judgment. Synthetic judgments, when 
derived from experience, are a posteriori, as that 
sugar is soluble. But are there any not derived 
from experience t Hume declared that our ideas of 
cause and effect are simply the result of an experi- 
ence of antecedence and consequence. But Kant 
replied that, in the mere fact of antecedence and 
consequence, the idea of causation was not given. 
But, as it is irresistibly believed in, it must have 



48 THE THEISriC ARGUMENT. 

some source. If this source cannot be found in ex- 
perience, it must have a necessary basis in the un- 
derstanding. We are, therefore, brought to recog- 
nize the vaHdity of synthetic judgments a priori. 

At first glance we seem to have reached the shore, 
and to be planted on a rock, from which we can sur- 
vey with complacency the frail barks of former sys- 
tems tossed helplessly on an unresting sea. But a 
closer examination shows that the critical philosophy 
has not solved the problem of human knowledge. 
We have found, indeed, that mind does owe some- 
thing to sense-experience, and that what it adds has 
the characteristics of certitude and universality, 
which experience can never claim. Still, the great 
question, whether we have ideas that are true inde- 
pendent of ourselves, remains unanswered. These 
necessary conditions of thought are purely personal. 
They are applicable only within the field of experi- 
ence, and if pushed beyond it only lead to delusion 
and error. According to Kant, even space and 
time were only forms of human perception, and not 
modes of real existence. They are universal and 
necessary conditions of all experience, but have no 
reality beyond. For the very reason that they exist 
in the mind,, as forms of intuition, they cannot exist 
out of it. While he did not deny the existence of an 
external world, he affirmed that its existence could 
not be proved. 

In spite, then, of his decided antagonism to Hume, 
Kant must be regarded as equally the precursor of 
the doctrine of relativity. He taught that every hy- 
pothesis which we can frame respecting the Infinite, 
the first cause, or the ultimate essences of things, 
must inevitably commit us to contradictions. He 



THE RELATIVITY OF KNOWLEDGE. 49 

showed from a psychological analysis that the neces- 
sary cooperation of two factors, in each act of cog- 
nition, rendered any knowledge of the external 
world, as it really exists, forever impossible. And 
though he conceded that the existence of an exter- 
nal world was a necessary postulate, yet this exist- 
ence was only logically affirmed. Any attempt to 
transcend the sphere of consciousness, he declared, 
was hopeless ; as well might the bird, when feeling 
the resistance of the air, wish that it were in a va- 
cuum. Where Kant differed essentially from Hume 
was in asserting the veracity of consciousness. 
Here he found the basis on which to build religion 
and morals. Reason is wholly incompetent to the 
task of demonstrating that the world exists, or that 
God exists. But there is another certitude besides 
that derived from demonstration. That the world 
exists, that God exists, are irresistible convictions. 

With this brief review of phases in the history of 
thought, perhaps familiar to most of you, we are in 
a position to understand the position of the present 
school of experience represented by Mr. Herbert 
Spencer. To this school the term Positive is com- 
monly applied, but in its latest modification it de- 
parts essentially from the so-called Positive Philos- 
ophy as expounded by August Comte. Starting 
from the postulate of the relativity of knowledge, 
the French philosopher affirmed not only that all 
knowledge comes from experience, but that, in its 
utmost development, it could not go beyond this 
line. In effect he reduced philosophy to a physical 
science, and denied that there was any mode of veri- 
fying truth save that which the physical sciences 
supply. One method must be followed in all inves- 
4 



50 THE THEISTIC ARGUMENT. 

tigations, whether the investigations relate to phys- 
ics, to psychology, to ethics, or to politics. Hence 
the contempt which Comte expressed for metaphys- 
ics as concerned with questions which lay outside 
the limit of scientific study. Hence his famous doc- 
trine of the three stages, in which theology and 
metaphysics were represented as mere stepping- 
stones of humanity to positive philosophy. 

The attitude of positivism with regard to the great 
problem whether any reality existed behind the phe- 
nomena recognized by the senses was not explicitly 
defined by Comte ; he simply dismissed the ques- 
tion. In his recent English representative, John 
Stuart Mill, we find substantially the same treat- 
ment of the question. In his essay on Berkeley he 
says that we owe to that philosopher " the discovery 
of the true nature and meaning of the externality 
which we attribute to the objects of our senses ; that 
it does not consist in a substratum supporting a set 
of sensible qualities, or an unknown somewhat, which 
not being itself a sensation gives us our sensations, 
but consists in the fact that our sensations occur in 
groups, held together by a permanent law, and which 
come and go independently of our volitions or men- 
tal processes." ^ Hence the existence of an unknown 
reality behind phenomena is not denied, but is left 
an open question. Hence it appears that the pos- 
itive philosophy, refusing to deal with anything be- 
yond the sphere of experience, simply preserves a 
non-committal attitude with regard to the question 
of any absolute existence. Any attempt to solve 
this problem it contemptuously scouts as a task in 
which only children can take an interest. 

1 \_Three Essays on Religion (New York, 1874), p. 263.] 



THE J^ELATIVITY OF KNOWLEDGE. 5 I 

Precisely at this point the line is drawn between 
the school of Mill and the school of Spencer. For 
it is the characteristic of the latter that in opposition 
to idealism, and to positivism alike, it unhesitatingly 
affirms the existence of this absolute reality. Start- 
ing from precisely the same point of the relativity 
of knowledge, denying that we have direct knowledge 
of anything but sensible impressions, reducing con- 
sciousness to a series of successive states, holding 
much in common with the positive philosophy, it af- 
firms that by a strict process of scientific reasoning 
we may reach the result that something real and ab- 
solute exists behind the phenomena presented to 
the senses. It affirms this conclusion, not, it is 
true, on the old ground, but as the only conclusion 
consistent with that enlarged and systematized ex- 
perience, to which alone should be given the name 
of science. It not only refuses to admit the legit- 
imacy of the inference drawn by the idealist that 
the unknown reality beyond consciousness does not 
exist, but affirms positively that the doctrine of rela- 
tivity cannot be intelligibly stated without postulat- 
ing the existence of this reality. 

The grounds for this departure - from the positive 
philosophy may be briefly stated thus. Although 
we have no experience whatever of this absolute ex- 
istence in itself, we have an experience of the mode 
in which we are affected by it. This experience 
generates in us a fixed order of conceptions. And 
since we are thus possessed of a subjective order of 
conceptions wholly independent of our volition, we 
have the strongest possible warrant for believing 
that this inner order corresponds to the outer order 
of phenomena. Or in other words, "when any 



52 THE THEISTIC ARGUMENT. 

given order among our conceptions is so coherent 
that it cannot be sundered except by the temporary 
annihilation of some one of its terms, there must be 
a corresponding order among phenomena." Or, to 
put the principle in still a different form, " perfect 
congruity of experience must generate in us belief, 
of which the component conceptions can by no men- 
tal effort be torn apart." The result which we thus 
reach is a reasoned realism, the fundamental the- 
orem, of the most recent form of the experience- 
philosophy. It may be defined as a synthesis of 
scientific truths in a universal science dealing with 
phenomena as manifestations of an absolute power. 

Let us quote the language of Mr. Spencer himself. 
" One of two things must be asserted : either the 
antecedents of each feeling, or state of conscious- 
ness, exist only as previous feelings or states of con- 
sciousness ; or else they, or some of them, exist 
apart from, or independently of, consciousness. If 
the first is asserted, then the proof that whatever 
we feel exists relatively to ourselves only, becomes 
doubly meaningless. To say that a sensation of 
sound and a sensation of jar cannot be respectively 
like their common antecedent because they are not 
like one another, is an empty proposition, since the 
two feelings of sound and jar never have a com- 
mon antecedent in consciousness. The combination 
of feelings that is followed by the feeling of jar is 
never the same as the combination of feelings that 
is followed by the feeling of sound ; and hence, not 
having a common antecedent, it cannot be argued 
that they are unlike it. Moreover, if by antecedent 
is meant constant and uniform antecedent (and any 
other meaning is suicidal), then the proposition that 



THE RELATIVITY OF KNOWLEDGE. 53 

the antecedent of sound exists only in consciousness, 
is absolutely irreconcilable with the fact that the 
feeling of sound often abruptly breaks in upon the 
series of feelings otherwise determined, when no 
antecedent of the specified kind has occurred. The 
other alternative, therefore, that the active antece- 
dent of each primary feeling exists independently of 
consciousness, is the only thinkable one. It is the 
one implicitly asserted in the very proposition that 
feelings are relative to our own natures ; and it is 
taken for granted in every step of every argument 
by which this proposition is proved." ^ 

"Hence our firm belief in objective reality, a be- 
lief which metaphysical criticisms cannot for a mo- 
ment shake. When we are taught that a piece of 
matter, regarded by us as existing externally, can- 
not be really known, but that we can only know cer- 
tain impressions produced on us, we are yet, by the 
relativity of our thought, compelled to think of them 
in relation to a positive cause — the notion of a real 
existence which generated these impressions be- 
comes nascent." " The momentum of thought inev- 
itably carries us beyond conditioned existence to un- 
conditional existence." At the same time that by 
the laws of thought we are rigorously prevented from 
forming a conception of absolute existence, we are 
by the laws of thought equally prevented from rid- 
ding ourselves of the consciousness of absolute exist- 
ence ; this consciousness being, as we have seen, the 
obverse of our self-consciousness."^ 

But this affirmation of the existence of an abso- 
lute reality, independent of the series of changes 

1 Principles of Psychology, i. 209. 

2 First Principles, pp. 93, 96. 



54 THE THEISTIC ARGUMENT. 

which constitutes our consciousness, is made with 
important limitations. If we ask for a more precise 
definition of what it means, we are told that we can- 
not identify this absolute existence with mind, since 
what we know as mind is nothing more than a series 
of phenomenal manifestations, not an occult reality, 
but simply a group of thoughts and feelings. Nor 
can we any more identify this absolute existence 
with matter, since what we know as matter is also 
but a group of phenomena perceived by the senses. 
Absolute existence, which exists independently of 
us, and of which mind and matter are the manifesta- 
tions, cannot be identified with either. Thus ideal- 
ism and materialism are equally set aside. And, 
since the relations of difference and no-difference, 
under which we are compelled to do all our think- 
ing, are subjective, we cannot say that there exists 
independently of consciousness any reality to which 
these apply ; we cannot conceive of absolute exist- 
ence even as single being. We can simply affirm 
the fact of absolute existence ; the nature of that 
existence remains inscrutable. We have only an 
unknowable reality, of which all phenomena are 
knowable manifestations. 

Like the positive philosophy, the system of Mr. 
Spencer rejects as futile all ontological speculation; 
like the positive philosophy, it professes to make a 
rigorous use of scientific method, but it reaches a re- 
sult from which the positive philosophy recoils. And 
this result it does not hesitate to assert in the inter- 
est of religion. "The certainty," says Mr. Spencer, 
" that, on the one hand, such a power exists, while, 
on the other hand, i*s nature transcends intuition 
and is beyond imagination, is the certainty towards 



THE RELATIVITY OF KNOWLEDGE. 55 

which intelligence has been from the first progress- 
ing. To this conclusion science inevitably arrives 
as it reaches its confines ; while to this conclusion 
religion is irresistibly driven by criticism. And sat- 
isfying, as it does, the demands of the most rigorous 
logic, at the same time that it gives the religious 
sentiment the widest possible sphere of action, it is 
the conclusion we are bound to accept without re- 
serve or qualification." And then, having, in reply 
to Mansel, declared that duty requires us neither to 
affirm or deny personality of this Absolute Un- 
known, but submit ourselves with all humility to 
the established limits of our intelligence, he adds : 
''This, which to most will seem an essentially irre- 
ligious position, is an essentially religious one, nay, 
is the religious one to which all others are but ap- 
proximations." ^ 

If we now ask what is the ground of this ineradi- 
cable belief in the existence of absolute being, we are 
told that it rests upon the strongest of all founda- 
tions, — the unthinkableness of its opposite. With- 
out postulating it, we can frame no theory whatever 
either of external or internal phenomena. But why 
are we compelled to think in any given way } Sim- 
ply, we are told, because we cannot transcend ex- 
perience. " The very fact of our being compelled to 
judge of the unknown by the known, of our irresist- 
ibly anticipating that the future course of events 
will resemble the past, of our incapacity to believe 
that the same effects should not grow from the 
same causes — this very fact is a triumphant proof 
of our having no ideas 7iot acquired through experi- 
ence." ^ Only, by experience is not meant merely 

1 \Flrst Principles, p. 108.] 

2 Lewes, History of Philosophy , vol. i., p. cxiii. 



56 THE THEISTIC ARGUMENT. 

the experience of the individual, nor even the expe- 
rience of the race, transmitted from past generations 
by tradition, but the very faculties by which ideas 
are acquired are themselves the products of accumu- 
lated and organized experiences received by ances- 
tral races of beings. This primordial experience 
supplies the basis from which individual experience 
begins. 

With the scientific value, or the logical consis- 
tency, of this theory, we are not now concerned. I 
am not subjecting the philosophy of Mr. Spencer to 
any critical review, but simply making use of it as 
illustrating the most recent phase of the doctrine of 
relativity. And it clearly shows us this, that start- 
ing with the doctrine that experience is the only 
source of knowledge, and making the first test of 
truth to consist in " the inexpugnable persistence 
in consciousness," insisting throughout that, in its 
utmost limit, truth is simply the generalization of 
experience, he reaches a point when he is compelled 
to believe in something which is not the product of 
experience, of which he is not and never can be 
conscious, and which no generalization of science 
could ever reach. The existence of this something 
is simply a matter of belief. The metaphysical 
ground of this belief is a secondary question. It 
is essential to his own logical support of his posi- 
tion^ but is not essential to our understanding of 
it. No matter how explained, no matter how well 
or how ill supported, the simple fact remains, that 
our only guarantee for the fundamental conception 
on which philosophy is built is irresistible belief. 

This point is too important to be passed over 
without further comment. Nothing was more char- 



THE RELATIVITY OF KNOWLEDGE. 57 

acteristic of the positive school, as represented by 
Comte, than the emphasis with which it insisted on 
a strictly scientific method. No truth was recog- 
nized as having any validity but reasoned or logic- 
ally demonstrated truth. The maxims of physical 
investigation were exalted into a universal organon. 
No facts were recognized that could not be made 
evident to sense. It was the boast of this philos- 
ophy, that the solid walls of the structure that it 
reared were not weakened by any doubtful mate- 
rial from the quarry of metaphysics. But this later 
school denounces, as a popular misconception, the 
notion that nothing can be known to be true that 
cannot be demonstrated. It does not hesitate to 
recognize belief as the sole basis of the fundamental 
conceptions of human thought. True, it attempts 
an elaborate vindication of the origin of such belief. 
Discarding as equally insufficient the explanation of 
Hume, that the sole criterion of truth is uniformity 
of experience, and the explanation of Kant, that 
the criterion of truth is to be found in the constitu- 
tion of the mind, it professes to blend both theories 
together in the doctrine that our experience is the 
register of the facts which the external world is con- 
tinually impressing upon consciousness, so that the 
mind receives, from generation to generation, a 
shape which renders it incapable of conceiving any- 
thing at variance with this register. But it is clear 
that this physical theory of the origin of our neces- 
sary beliefs, whether true or false, does not in the 
least modify their nature ; nor does it modify, in the 
slightest degree, the conditions of the problem we 
have been all along discussing. What ground have 
we for inferring the existence of an external real- 



58 THE THEISTIC ARGUMENT. 

ity corresponding with the subjective order of our 
thought ? When we reach the last analysis, our sole 
warrant for this is not demonstration, but belief. 
In other words, far as we may push our rigid chain 
of scientific reasoning, we reach at last a line where 
the whole complexion of our mental state is altered. 
We may be forced by a logical necessity to conceive 
the existence of something transcending thought, 
but that this existence is not ideal, but real, can only 
be matter of irresistible belief. 

Another characteristic of the Comtean school of 
positivism was the unqualified contempt which it 
expressed, on all occasions, for metaphysics. The 
great problems of metaphysics were dismissed as in- 
soluble, as finding no place in scientific method, as 
characteristic of a lower and preliminary stage in 
the growth of the human race. But the later theory 
brings us face to face with a purely ontological con- 
clusion, — the idea of absolute being. And this con- 
clusion it does not know of as an abstraction, but 
presents as a reality, the negation of which is incon- 
ceivable. True, the old phrases are repeated about 
the fruitlessness of metaphysical inquiry, and what 
are termed the objective and the subjective methods 
are carefully distinguished. We are told that the 
difference between a scientific and a metaphysical 
principle consists, not in the fact that the former is 
not disputed, but that it is open to verification, and 
that a sound philosophy is simply the most general- 
ized form of science ; but, with whatever pretexts, 
the great fact is recognized that these conceptions 
cannot be dismissed from human thought. 

When Mr. Lewes so earnestly contends for the 
application of scientific methods to metaphysics, he 



THE RELATIVITY OF KNOWLEDGE. 59 

virtually avows that the problems of metaphysics 
cannot be discarded. There is a path, he tells us, 
through which these problems may be accessible. 
The question with him is one of method. The first 
operation, in dealing with a metaphysical problem, 
is to disengage the known from the unknown ele- 
ments. As a guide to research, he proceeds to 
lay down the formula, that " the existence of an 
unknown quantity does not necessarily disturb the 
accuracy of calculations founded on the known func- 
tions of that quantity." ^ This not only virtually con- 
cedes the principle for which I contended at the 
outset, but it reveals, on the part of this popular 
writer, a significant change in the estimate of truths. 
The sphere of inquiry is immeasurably extended be- 
yond the line drawn by those who limited philos- 
ophy to the study of physical causation. When he 
assures us that the great problems which for thirty 
years he dismissed as insoluble he now regards as 
soluble, he passes sentence of condemnation on all 
who, on scientific grounds, profess to care not for 
these things. 

The general body of doctrine that passes under 
the designation of positivism is the bugbear of the 
modern religious mind. It is looked upon as a sys- 
tem which, on rigidly scientific grounds, subverts 
our belief in a supernatural order, and which arrays 
all the best attested results of modern scientific in- 
quiry in opposition to the most cherished convic- 
tions of the soul. It is popularly regarded as creat- 
ing an impassable barrier between the seen and the 
unseen ; as rejecting with contempt inquiries with 
which the most vital interests of humanity are 

1 \Problems of Life and Mind (ist series), vol. i., p. 37.] 



60 THE THE IS TIC ARGUMENT. 

bound up. And it must be acknowledged that, as 
frequently expressed in its more popular forms, it 
has furnished ample occasion for this reproach. But 
we have seen from this hasty survey, that, accepted 
in this spirit, it no longer satisfies its most thought- 
ful adherents. The strict disciples of Comte, at 
the present day, are a mere handful. His name is 
mentioned with scorn by some of the leaders of 
modern thought who owe their first impulse to his 
teachings ; and, as we know, he lived long enough 
himself to bring a stinging reproach of insufficiency 
against his own fundamental postulate. In its mod- 
ified form, this school deals with the very problems 
which it once discarded, and not only this, but, in 
dealing with them, it virtually indorses the method 
which it once condemned ; for the irresistible belief, 
which Mr. Spencer recognizes as the foundation ot 
philosophy, however he may account for its exist- 
ence, does not practically differ from the intuition 
on which the older philosophy insisted. If this is 
merely the result of experience, it cannot be neces- 
sary and absolute ; if necessary and absolute, it must 
involve an element which mere experience cannot 
supply. It was this intuitional element in Spen- 
cer's view which excited the profound repugnance 
of Mr. Mill. But this is one of its fundamental 
characteristics ; and although, as applied by Mr. 
Spencer, it cannot be said to advance us very far in 
the line of any positive religious conception, yet it 
effectually demolished the barrier which the earlier 
positivism had set up. It again opened the ques- 
tions which Comte had declared forever settled. It 
may not decide these questions in a satisfactory way, 
but it no longer seeks to banish them from the juris- 
diction of human thought. 



THE RELATIVITY OF KNOWLEDGE. 6 1 

In recognizing, even in this modified form, the 
validity of intuition, Mr. Spencer concedes the great 
principle that the sphere of truth extends beyond the 
domain of mere logical inference. In other words, 
the soul is seen to be subject to more than mere 
intellectual conditions. It was a maxim of Comte, — 
a maxim that underlies and pervades his whole the- 
ory of the progress of humanity, — that ideas and 
ideas alone, govern and modify society; that the so- 
cial mechanism, in its last analysis, rests wholly on 
opinions. This doctrine was made familiar to Eng- 
lish readers a few years ago in the now almost forgot- 
ten history of Mr. Buckle. This writer, with a parade 
of learning that for the moment confused his undis- 
cerning readers, set forth the theorem that the laws 
of human development were only intellectual laws, 
and that the moral element might safely be omitted 
from our survey. We find in Mr. Spencer an un- 
qualified rejection of this view. " Ideas," he tells us 
in a striking passage, '*do not govern and overthrow 
the world ; the world is governed or overthrown by 
feelings, to which ideas serve only as guides. The 
social mechanism does not rest finally upon opinions, 
but almost wholly upon character." 

Refusing as he did, to recognize in his philosophy 
any consciousness of a cause manifesting itself to 
us in phenomena, scouting, indeed, the very con- 
ception of cause as unworthy the notice of science, 
Comte, when in his old age he sought satisfaction 
for the irresistible cravings of his religious nature, 
was driven to find the object of his worship in Hu- 
manity, whose collective life he termed the Supreme 
Being. And hence that strange ritual, which Mr. 
Huxley sneered at as '' Catholicism minus Christian- 



62 THE THEISTIC ARGUMENT. 

ity ; " while Mr. Spencer, conceiving the object of 
religious sentiment as the unknown source of things, 
insists that however the mere forms of apprehension 
may change, from age to age, the substance of the 
consciousness can never pass away. But as, accord- 
ing to his view, the life of humanity is a constant 
evolution, the inner necessity which shapes our think- 
ing, being the result of a constant and progressive 
modification of the structure of the mind itself, we 
can fix no limit to the form which the religious sen- 
timent may assume. In our knowledge of the Infi- 
nite Unknowable we may make an indefinite advance, 
and come to know far more than we now do of the 
Being whom we can never fully search out. 

The question by what philosophical term we may 
choose to designate the result here reached is a ques- 
tion of quite secondary consequence. The term 
intuition is connected with old associations and with 
different modes of thought. But when we are told 
that, as the last result of a scientific method, and by 
the inexorable conditions of our thought we are com- 
pelled to recognize the existence of a "■ Power to 
which no limit in time or space is conceivable, of 
which all phenomena, as presented in consciousness 
are manifestations," we seem to recognize what phi- 
losophy regards as the most fundamental of all intu- 
itions, the intuition of Being. And, in reaching this 
result, it need hardly be added, we reach the start- 
ing-point of Natural Religion. With this postulate 
conceded, what remains is a question of mere method. 
We may pause with this result, or following the 
path of a scientific or a metaphysical inquiry, may 
deduce further conclusions from it. We may deduce 
these conclusions soberly, or we may deduce them 



THE RELATIVITY OF KNOWLEDGE. 63 

rashly ; we may pursue the inquiry with the indiffer- 
ence with which we investigate physical phenomena, 
or we may pursue it with our whole being stirred to 
its inmost depths by a sense of the overwhelming 
interests involved in the solution of the problem, but 
we are no longer at issue respecting the reality of 
the fundamental conception on which religion rests. 
The doctrine of the relativity of knowledge, about 
which we have heard so much, does not affect this 
conception in the least. A few may say, with Mr. 
Frederic Harrison, *' We do not concern ourselves 
with the absolute and the infinite, or with first 
causes, or eternity, or transcendentals of any kind. 
We neither accept these notions nor deny them, nor 
disprove them, nor denounce them, nor in any way 
concern ourselves about them," but the doctrine 
of relativity leads legitimately and logically to no 
such result. Physical science may rightly take this 
ground. The physical inquirer, if he is wise, will 
not intrude upon any other. But beyond the limit 
of logical inference lie truths which make their ap- 
peal to something deeper in man than the mere rea- 
soning faculty. So that, however unsatisfactory Mr. 
Spencer's conclusion may seem, if we go no further, 
it supplies an essential step in our argument for 
Theism. 

Let it not be supposed that in affirming this we 
go back to the seductive theories of the early Tran- 
scendentalists. The result which we here reach is 
by no means the result which they proclaimed with 
such generous enthusiasm. The faith instilled in 
their musical sentences was faith in a direct insight 
that recognized ideas independently of any relation 
to the phenomena of sense and spirit. The capacity 



64 THE THE I STIC ARGUMENT. 

to recognize these ideas was conceived of as a spe- 
cial faculty for the infinite and absolute, an imme- 
diate intuition of the eternal and divine. According 
to this theory, the more completely the soul was 
sundered from the things of sense, the clearer and 
more penetrating was its insight. But the conclu- 
sion which we have reached, though not the logical 
result of reasoning, is yet, in the strictest sense, a 
rational result. For, while we conceive that thg 
absolute cannot be known as the product of any in- 
ductive or deductive reasoning from the phenomena 
presented to the senses, we affirm that it is and can 
be known as the correlate which must be necessarily 
assumed to explain and account for those phenom- 
ena. And it is by fixing the attention upon these 
phenomena that the existence of the absolute and 
eternal is made evident. 

This belief which we have reached in the exist- 
ence of Absolute Being may, therefore, be defined 
as an act of Reason. " Reason," in the words of 
Cardinal Newman, "is that faculty of mind by which 
knowledge of things external to us, of beings, facts, 
and events, is attained beyond the range of sense. 
It ascertains for us not material things only, or im- 
material only, or present only, or past, or future ; 
but, even if limited in its power, it is unlimited in 
its range, viewed as a faculty, though of course in 
individuals it varies in range also. It reaches to the 
ends of the universe, and to the throne of God be- 
yond them ; it brings us knowledge, whether clear 
or uncertain, still knowledge, in whatever degree of 
perfection from every side ; but at the same time 
with this characteristic, that it obtains it indirectly, 
not directly." 



THE RELATIVITY OF KNOWLEDGE. 65 

" Reason does not really perceive anything ; but 
it is a faculty of proceeding from things that are 
perceived to things which are not ; the existence of 
which it certifies to us on the hypothesis of some- 
thing else being known to exist, in other words, being 
assumed to be true." 

" Now, if this be Reason, an act or process of 
Faith, simply considered, is certainly an exercise 
of Reason. It is an acceptance of things as real 
which the senses do not convey : it is an instrument 
of indirect knowledge concerning things external 
to us."i 

I trust that in this imperfect handling of a great 
subject I have not failed to make my main purpose 
clear. In presenting the argument for the divine 
existence, it was needful to show whether the ques- 
tion was one with which the intellect could legiti- 
mately deal. Does a problem so vast lie within the 
scope of finite faculties t This raises at once the 
question of the nature and limitations of human 
knowledge. That human knowledge is in its nature 
relative, that what we know can be known to us 
only under the limitations of human consciousness, 
is a principle on which all sober thinkers are agreed. 
But what is implied in this ; how far is the mind 
shut up by acknowledging this principle .'* Accord- 
ing to one view the mind is shut up to phenomena 
and their laws, and any attempt to pass this line is 
denounced as childish folly. But I have endeavored 
to show, from the writings of the recognized living 
leader of this school, that the doctrine of relativity, 
fairly understood, will. not allow us to stop here, that 
we are brought at last to a point where the intuition 

1 University Sermons, p. 206. 
5 



^6 THE THEISTIC ARGUMENT. 

of absolute existence is forced irresistibly upon the 
mind. Even science cannot come to its extreme 
verge without drawing transcendental inferences. 

When La Place was reproached for not having 
mentioned the name of God in his great work, he re- 
plied that he had no need of that hypothesis. As a 
mere man of science, he had a perfect right to make 
such an answer. Physical science deals with the 
facts of nature, and the laws to be deduced from 
them. It does not undertake to go beyond. If the 
motions of the heavenly bodies could be accounted 
for on a purely mechanical principle, the astron- 
omer had a right to stop with that. The task he 
had in hand did not require him to push his re- 
searches any further. But precisely where the as- 
tronomer stopped all the real interest of the problem 
began. The question which he had so skillfully an- 
swered only brought the mind face to face with 
questions which his methods could not solve. By 
the laws of our intellectual constitution we are 
forced to believe that there is something beyond. 
What light is thrown by the external universe, or 
by our own consciousness, upon the nature of that 
unknown something ; what is taught us by the seen 
respecting the unseen ; these are questions which 
science does not ask, but to which the soul of man 
demands an answer. 



LECTURE III. 

CAUSE AND FORCE. 

Let us see how far our inquiry has thus far 
brought us. I have sought to show that the ac- 
cepted methods of modern philosophical thought 
furnish no presumption against the primary postu- 
late on which natural religion rests ; that the recog- 
nized principle of the relativity of knowledge, in- 
stead of excluding, logically involves the affirmation 
of absolute existence. It is simply repeating a com- 
monplace when I assert that all inquiry leads us 
back to certain ultimate truths, or facts, which defy 
any further analysis, and of which the most that we 
can say is that no conception whatever of things can 
be formed which does not rest in the affirmation of 
their existence. For any explanation of the uni- 
verse that the mind essays must end in the inexpli- 
cable. The confines of the known are everywhere in 
contact with the unknown ; the most certain knowl- 
edge on every side fades out in mystery ; the far- 
thest vision at length grows dim ; the infinite world 
of ever-changing phenomena forces on us the con- 
viction of something of which all this is but the 
manifestation and which changes not. 

We have now to ask whether this mystery that 
envelops the origin and end of all things is abso- 
lutely inscrutable, or whether the human intelligence 
may make some effort to search it out. Are we shut 



68 THE THEISTIC ARGUMENT. 

up to the blank conclusion that some Being exists, 
forced to recognize the fact, but with no faculties 
that fit us to understand its nature and interpret its 
relation to ourselves ; or have we the means given us 
of advancing along the path that thus opens before 
us ? What can we know of the central principle of 
all existence ? Is it in its real essence accessible to 
our finite faculties ? Are we capable of reaching 
any further explanation of it ? These are the prob- 
lems that have haunted human thought since the day 
when man became conscious of his own existence. 
The first dim questioning of the awakened soul in 
the infancy of time, and the latest results of the most 
matured and discriminated scientific thought, lead 
to the same result, and culminate in the question 
which is the last, and highest, and greatest of all 
questions, the question as to the nature of that Be- 
ing who is before all things and in whom all things 
consist. 

But it will be of use, at the outset, to state the pre- 
cise form of the inquiry upon which we are about to 
enter. The contest between those who affirm and 
those who deny the existence of a Supreme Being, 
or at least who deny that we have any sufficient evi- 
dence presented to us for affirming that existence, 
has varied materially from age to age, and the points 
on which the controversy now hinges are not the 
points on which it hinged a century ago. In the 
last century the warfare against religious belief was 
mainly waged on metaph3^sical grounds ; at the pres- 
sent day it is mainly waged on grounds derived from 
the conclusions of science. The physical sciences 
especially are claimed to have established beyond 
doubt certain principles which, if they do not con- 



GAUSE AND FORCE. 69 

tradict the existence of a Supreme Being, at least 
render the hypothesis of such existence no longer 
necessary. In the new conception which we have 
reached of the organization and correlation of the 
material universe, we have a satisfactory solution 
given us of the problem of existence, and religious 
behef is discarded as an explanation suited to one 
stage of human progress, but destined now to give 
way to a worthier view. 

By the most serious advocates of anti-theistic 
views it is not denied that the race, in its actual his- 
torical development, has tended to recognize the ex- 
istence of a Supreme Being ; nor is it denied that 
the question to which theism is an answer is a very 
natural one, and that it has its origin in an obvious 
want of the human mind. For as soon as the mind 
rose to the conception of nature as a connected sys- 
tem, the conviction that this united whole had its 
origin in one mind, and was directed by one will, 
was a conception to which it was logically led. Ac- 
customed as we are within the limits of experience 
to find a definite beginning for every fact, and to 
reason continually from effects to causes, it was im- 
possible that the mind should not ask whether all 
that we see had not also a beginning, and whether 
behind the endless play of causes and effects contin- 
ually presented to us, there were not veiled a more 
remote and ultimate cause. But the question, it is 
'claimed, which we have now to answer is, whether 
this universal and natural belief is consistent with 
the ascertained results of science, and will it bear to 
be tested by the established canons of scientific in- 
quiry. 

Let me illustrate more clearly the nature of this 



70 THE THE IS TIC ARGUMENT. 

change. A little more than half a century ago, in a 
lonely spot on the Italian coast, a few miles to the 
north of Leghorn, a strange drama was enacted, a 
drama that in a Christian age and in a Christian 
land seemed the revival of a pagan rite. On the 
yellow sand which the blue water of the Mediter- 
ranean was gently washing, with the islands of 
Gorgona and Elba lying in the sunlight, with the 
marble-crested Apennines glistening in the back- 
ground, with not a human dwelling in sight, and 
only the old battlemented watch-towers, that stretch 
along the coast, looming up as silent witnesses, 
a funeral pyre was built. From out the pure 
sand that lay lightly over it a naked human body, of 
wondrous loveliness, was next drawn, and laid upon 
the wood. Wine and oil was then poured reverently 
upon it, which when the fire was kindled caused so 
intense a heat that the atmosphere itself grew trem- 
ulous and wavy with the quivering flames. In the 
fierce burning the body was soon reduced to ashes, 
the only portions not consumed being some frag- 
ments of bone, with the jaw and skull. In the fiery 
pile the heart alone remained entire*^ 

Beside the funeral pyre, watching with intense in- 
terest the progress of the flames, stood three com- 
panions and fellow-countrymen of the departed, one 
of them the most famous poet of modern times. 
Byron watching, by the shore of the sea that he 
loved and sung so well, the burning of the lifeless 
form of Shelley ! I recall no picture more striking 
than that ! The poet who sets to music as no other 
poet has done the immeasurable griefs and woes that 

1 [See Trelawny, Records of Shelley, Byron, and the Author ^ vol. i. 
p. 212.] 



CAUSE AND FORCE. 7 1 

make such heart-ache of human life, and the poet 
whose most daring venture in verse was a denial 
that life had any consolation beyond the grave. Of 
Shelley it was Byron himself that wrote, *' He was 
the most gentle, the most amiable, and least worldly- 
minded person that I ever met ; full of delicacy, dis- 
interested beyond other men, and possessing a de- 
gree of genius joined to simplicity as rare as it is 
admirable." And yet this youth, this amiable, this 
unworldly, disinterested being, when still a youth 
was expelled from Oxford for avowing himself an 
atheist, and remained through his brief life the pas- 
sionate apostle of a creed which left to those who 
gathered up his ashes nothing 

** But pale despair and cold tranquillity." 

With Shelley atheism was a sentiment. The 
ruling impulse of his nature was a passionate antag- 
onism to what he regarded as unreal and conven- 
tional. His disgust with platitudes, his enthusiastic 
love of liberty, his hatred of intolerance, his impa- 
tience of control, his passion for a kind of logical 
consistency, all combined to make him the champion 
of an extreme opinion. His favorite ideal, we are 
told by his latest biographer, was the vision of a 
youth "whose eloquence had power to break the 
bonds of despotism, as the sun thaws the ice on an 
April morning." ^ Compound of poet and philos- 
opher, his imagination pictured a new realm of truth 
and love and beauty amid the wreck of religious 
faith in which he rejoiced. The spirit of that un- 
quiet time, of which the French Revolution was the 
fruit, was strong upon him. So far as he had any 

1 [J. A. Symonds, Life of Shelley, (Am. ed.) p. 39.] 



'J2 THE THEISTIC ARGUMENT. 

reasoned ground for his unbelief it was drawn from 
the arguments of Hume. The little tract which 
provoked his expulsion from the university was 
mainly an abstract of the Scotch philosopher. His 
favorite authors were the superficial French ma- 
terialists. And it is striking to note that as his 
poetic instinct was emancipated from the snares of 
metaphysics he seemed to yearn for a more satis- 
factory solution of the dark problem of existence. 

But the denial of any proof of the divine existence 
with which we are confronted in modern thought is 
of a very different kind. It is not a mere passionate 
protest against the tyranny of custom, an impatient 
revolt against whatever is accepted and established, 
it is the calm deliberate conclusion of those who are 
ready to acknowledge that religion is venerable for 
its age, and consoling in its teachings, but who re- 
fuse to accept it because it will not bear to be tested 
by the principles and canons which have been es- 
tablished as the only safe guides of inquiry. The 
ruling idea of our time is not revolution but evolu- 
tion. It affects no contempt for the past, as was so 
much the fashion in the last century ; it wages no 
angry contest with what is old and established ; on 
the contrary, it recognizes all that has gone before as 
the essential condition of the present, the ladder by 
which the human mind has climbed to its present 
height. In its cautious adherence to its own meth- 
ods it refuses even to deny the existence of an eter- 
nal ground of all phenomena ; it only asserts that 
respecting this eternal source of all existence we, 
as finite beings, are able neither to affirm nor to 
deny anything. 

That, after so many centuries, this question should 



CAUSE AND FORCE. 73 

Still be debated seems indeed like an irony of fate. 
That the human race should have existed so many- 
years, that it should have indulged such long cher- 
ished hopes, that it should have confided in so many 
forms of faith, and received as authentic so many 
utterances respecting the invisible world, only at last 
to be brought to the conclusion that it has walked 
in a vain show when it supposed itself to be com- 
muning with its Maker, is a fact which at the outset 
may incline us to view with distrust any attempt to 
rest the fundamental postulate of theism upon ra- 
tional grounds. The utter impotence of reason to 
deal with this problem, may seem sufficiently at- 
tested in the fact that the progressive development 
of thought, and the perfecting of methods of inquiry, 
have only landed the most cultivated minds in utter 
skepticism. One deeply convinced of the vital re- 
lation of this doctrine to the welfare of the soul may 
well shrink from what seems so precarious an ex- 
periment as the attempt to justify to reason what 
should be accepted upon other and more indisputa- 
ble grounds. 

Yet however profound may be our conviction of 
the importance of the issues involved in the discus- 
sion, the inquiry whether religion has any reason- 
able ground is one that, in the present state of opin- 
ion, we cannot afford to pass by. Without ques- 
tioning the fact that feeling and will are as important 
constituents in religious life as rational conviction, it 
seems clear that we cannot feel dependence upon that 
of whose existence we are not convinced, and that 
we cannot love or fear that of which we have no 
conception. The entire self-surrender of the soul, 
which is the very essence of religion, can only be 



74 THE THEISTIC ARGUMENT. 

distinguished from superstition, when it is regarded 
as in the highest sense a rational act. On any 
other supposition religion must be viewed as a form 
of mental disease. And as a fact history shows us, 
that whatever have been the errors and shortcom- 
ings of human reason, it has always been in the 
path of rational inquiry that men have reached a 
theistic conception. Not by discarding reason, but 
by making use of reason, has the human mind risen 
from inadequate to adequate conceptions of the Su- 
preme Being. 

Theism may be defined in few words, " as the 
doctrine that the universe owes its existence, and 
continuance in existence, to the reason and will of a 
self-existent Being, who is infinitely powerful, wise, 
and good. It is the doctrine that nature has a Cre- 
ator and Preserver, the nations a Governor, men a 
Heavenly Father and Judge." ^ As a matter of fact, 
this conception has not been wrought by each one of 
us for himself, but has been handed down from age 
to age, from generation to generation, from parent 
to child. Few of us know when or how we became 
possessed of it. Tradition, education, social influ- 
ence, have determined its shape and insured its ac- 
ceptance. It is part of our civilization, part of our 
life, is the very air we breathe. Yet this does not 
relieve us from the obligation of ascertaining the 
rational grounds on which it rests. And this obliga- 
tion, which our own inner harmony demands, be 
comes imperative whenever the doctrine is called in 
question. What we have perhaps accepted with pas- 
sive acquiescence, becomes then, at once, the most 
urgent, the most sacred, the most momentous inquiry 

1 Prof. R. Flint, Theism, p. i8. 



CAUSE AND FORCE. 75 

with which the human intelligence can ever busy 
itself. 

And since truth is infinite, it seems a reasonable 
conclusion that the knowledge of religious truth, like 
other knowledge, is progressive. It has been hastily 
assumed that in the discussion of religious questions 
we only tread a circle, and repeat, in other phrases, 
arguments which have been again and again ad- 
vanced. But there seems no good reason for sup- 
posing that here, as everywhere, the mind cannot, 
by deeper reflection, by wider comparison, by sur- 
vey of the subject from new points, be unclothed of 
old errors and clothed upon with new truths. And 
especially may such a result be anticipated as a re- 
sult of the new controversies which from time to time 
spring up. A new phase of error and unbelief, if it 
be proved to be such, can hardly fail to develop a 
new phase of truth. Progress is the conciliation of 
apparent contradictions. It may be, even in relig- 
ious controversy, that both assertions are imperfect 
statements. In dealing, therefore, with what we re- 
gard as error, we need not be disturbed, if we find, 
on emerging from the conflict, that while we have 
established some positions, we have been compelled 
to relinquish others. We learn often our best les- 
sons from our foes. 

If, then, we believe that there is one God, and be- 
lieve further, that we can know Him in his relations 
to ourselves, we ought to have reasons or grounds 
for this belief. But, upon entering upon a more de- 
tailed examination of these grounds, there are certain 
general considerations respecting the nature and 
limits of the inquiry in which we are about to en- 
gage, that ought to be presented. The question is 



*f6 THE THE IS TIC ARGUMENT. 

the most momentous and solemn that the human 
mind can consider, and it needs to be approached 
with especial care. I do not refer simply to the 
moral temper that befits such an inquiry, for it need 
not be said that in such a discussion we ought, at 
the outset, to divest ourselves of the spirit of the 
mere controversialist. The petty ambition to van- 
quish an opponent should have no place in a discus- 
sion like the present. We are dealing with a ques- 
tion of incalculable gravity, and one respecting which 
opinion, in our time, is widely and seriously divided. 
And the arguments of those who deny that there is 
any proof of the divine existence, or any means of 
knowing the divine nature, have been urged with 
too much candor, and too much seriousness, to be 
met with any but the most considerate and respect- 
ful answer. 

But what I have in mind is not so much this moral 
temper, as certain intellectual conditions which 
should guide our study. The nature of the proof 
which we are about to undertake, needs to be care- 
fully discriminated. Since the famous critique of 
Kant, arguments which once played a great part in 
the discussion have fallen into disrepute, and the 
opinion has come to be widely spread, not only with 
those who reject, but also with those who accept the 
doctrine, that the existence of God does not admit 
of being proved. It is therefore needful to state 
clearly, at the outset, in what sense we use the word 
proof as applied to the divine existence. For it is 
hardly necessary to say that the term, in different 
departments of inquiry, is used in very different 
meanings. "The proofs for the existence of God," 
says Ulrici, " coincide with the grounds for the be- 



CAUSE AND FORCE. 77 

lief in God ; they are simply the real grounds of the 
belief, established and expounded in a scientific man- 
ner. If there be no such proofs, there are also no 
such grounds, and a belief which has no ground, 
if possible at all, can be no proper belief, but an ar- 
bitrary, self-made, subjective opinion. It must sink 
to the level of mere illusion." ^ 

If this be true, it follows that the proofs of God's 
existence must be simply his own manifestations ; 
the ways in which He makes himself known, or, 
in other words, the phenomena alike of conscious- 
ness and of the external world. Our reasonings 
have no value save in so far as they are inductions 
from these, and from these phenomena our minds 
may rise legitimately to the apprehension of God, 
though we are capable, in many instances, of giving 
ourselves no rational account of the process through 
which we have gone. The analysis of our mental 
acts belongs to a later stage of our development. 
According to this view, it follows further that the 
evidences of the divine existence are innumerable, 
while at the same time they coalesce in a single, 
comprehensive argument. And being so countless 
and multiform they address different minds in very 
different ways. Thus, as Mr. Mill truly remarks, 
" the evidences of a Creator are not only of several 
distinct kinds, but of such diverse characters that 
they are adapted to minds of very different descrip- 
tions, and it is hardly possible for any mind to be 
equally impressed by them all."^ Hence a true view 
of the subject must be a very wide and very com- 
prehensive view. 

^ Quoted by Flint, Theism, p. 60. 
2 Three Essays, etc., p. 138. 



78 THE THEISTIC ARGUMENT. 

And not only this, but the exceedingly complex 
nature of the theistic argument is further seen in 
the fact that the very process by which the mind 
rises to the apprehension of God is a process which 
involves what is most distinctive and essential in its 
own constitution. Or, in other words, God can be 
thought of as the active, intelligent principle of all 
that exists only after a distinct consciousness of our 
own selves as voluntary agents. To conceive of the 
Deity as a cause, we must have had some experi- 
ence of causation. If we did not first know our- 
selves as causes, we should never reach the concep- 
tion of a primary, all-originating will. So, too, it is 
only in virtue of the direct consciousness of our in- 
tellectual operations, that we can conceive of a Su- 
preme Intelligence. So, from our moral nature, we 
are led in the same way to invest the Divine Being 
with moral perfections. Thus the mental process 
by which we reach the idea of God, is a process 
which summons into activity all that is highest and 
most essential in human nature. Whether the re- 
sult which we thus reach is legitimate or not, it is a 
result in which all our noblest parts and all our 
finest faculties harmoniously concur. 

Thus the various arguments for the existence of 
the Supreme Being are but stages in a single ra- 
tional process, and parts of one comprehensive 
proof. They are organically related, and they ought 
to be separated only for the purpose of comparison 
and study. The strength of the argument is the 
strength of the whole, not the strength of any of 
the separate proofs which go to make it up. And 
although so comprehensive and various an argument 
may appear, at first sight, confused and difficult, it 



CAUSE AND FORCE. 79 

is not really so. Though the Divine Being seems 
so far removed from us in accessless majesty, 
though no man hath seen Him at any time, and 
though we have no direct or immediate knowledge 
of Him, yet we know Him as naturally and as simply 
as we know our fellow men, and in fact we know 
Him, if we know Him at all, in the same way. We 
have no direct or immediate knowledge of our fellow 
men. In either case, we simply refer certain mani- 
festations of character to certain moral and intel- 
lectual qualities which consciousness has revealed 
to us as their causes. Thus we grow in the knowl- 
edge of God precisely as we grow in the knowledge 
of those whom we meet in the intercourse of every 
day. 

I do not of course mean that the evidence of the 
divine existence is as plain and indubitable as the 
existence of our fellow men. Were it so, we might 
have spared ourselves this long discussion. Though 
some have made a boast of atheism who really be- 
lieved in a form of theism, and some have been 
called atheists for rejecting unworthy conceptions 
of the Supreme Being, we must suppose that many 
have been brought sincerely to doubt the divine 
existence. Yet the fact that some do not reach any 
belief in God, does not render any less true the 
statement, that the process by which the mind at- 
tains such belief is of the same direct and natural 
character as the process by which it attains belief in 
the existence of finite beings. And when it has at- 
tained this belief its further apprehension of the 
character and attributes of God is also of essentially 
the same nature as that by which it becomes ac- 
quainted with its fellows. For the mental process 



80 THE THEISTIC ARGUMENT. 

must remain the same, whatever the subject with 
which for the time the mind is conversant. With- 
out doubt the mental process is affected by the 
moral state, and becomes keener and more active as 
the emotions are quickened ; but that its essential 
movement is the same, under whatever circum- 
stances, cannot admit of doubt. 

We do not need to burden our discussion with 
the consideration of arguments for the Divine ex- 
istence which are practically obsolete, and which do 
not touch modern speculation with force enough 
even to provoke controversy. These theories lie 
like wrecks on the shores of thought, and interest 
us only as relics of an intellectual habit that has 
long passed away. These a priori proofs possessed 
a singular fascination for speculative minds, but had 
they been conclusive they would, like the demonstra- 
tions of geometry, have carried irresistible convic- 
tion long ago. The fact that they have failed to 
convince is the best evidence that they were falla- 
cious. Whether in the form in which the argument 
was first stated by Anselm, or in the more elaborate 
theory of Descartes, they are all open to the same 
objection of reasoning from the necessary notion of 
God to his necessary existence. But the very es- 
sence of the problem is the opening of a path by 
which we may pass from the notions of the intellect 
to the realities of the universe beyond, and at the 
very outset to assume the existence of the one as a 
demonstration of the other is simply to beg the 
question. We have, in reality, simply an ideal con- 
clusion from an ideal premise. 

Anselm argued that our idea of God is the idea 
of a being than whom we can conceive nothing 



CAUSE AND FORCE. 3 1 

greater. But since real existence is greater than 
mere thought, the existence of God is involved in 
the idea of the most perfect being. For if we sup- 
pose God not to have existence, the idea of some- 
thing greater would remain. This subtle reasoning 
was characteristic of the scholastic age. That so 
acute a mind should have been satisfied with such 
an argument can only be explained from the intel- 
lectual habit of the time, Descartes, while devising 
a new method of experimental research, strangely 
followed the track of mediaeval speculation. He 
argued that necessary existence is as essential to 
the idea of an all-perfect being as the equality of its 
three angles to two right angles is essential to the 
idea of a triangle. " I cannot conceive God," he 
says, " except as existing, and hence it follows that 
existence is inseparable from him." ^ Here, again, 
an ideal concept is identified with an external fact. 
The most that the argument could prove would be 
that the mental concept was necessary, not that it 
had any counterpart in the external universe. But 
we need not linger with arguments that modern 
thought has ceased to notice. 

Let us pass, then, to a conception which is still 
regarded as a main support of the argument for the 
divine existence, — the idea of a First Cause. It has 
been truly remarked, that everybody is a metaphysi- 
cian, just as everybody is a poet ; that is, everybody 
has certain primary ideas and maxims which are in- 
volved in all exercise of thought, precisely as the 
rules of grammar are involved in speech. In Moliere's 
amusing play. Monsieur Jourdain is amazed to find 
that he had all his life been speaking prose, though 

^ \Meditationes , v.] 
6 



82 THE THE I STIC ARGUMENT. 

he had done it with no knowledge of the fact. In 
the same way we are unconscious philosophers from 
the hour when we begin to think. One of the most 
simple and rudimental of all truths is the maxim 
that every event must have had a cause, — not every 
existence in nature, for much confusion and un- 
sound reasoning have arisen for want of clear dis- 
crimination at this point. Merely from the present 
existence of any object, I cannot infer that it must 
have had a cause ; for, so far as I can tell, it may 
have existed in its present state forever. The mere 
presence of the world would not enable us to prove 
the agency of a Creator. Simple existence supplies 
no foundation for reasoning from effect to cause. 

The idea of cause springs out of change. So soon 
as change takes place, we affirm without hesitation 
that there is some agency or cause at work. What- 
ever has begun to be must have had a ground or 
antecedent sufficient to account for its beginning. 
I may appeal to the familiar experience of every one 
of us in proof of this. No sooner do we witness 
an}'- change within us or without us than we find 
ourselves instinctively considering how it came to 
pass. By an instinctive tendency or constitutional 
law, the mind goes out in the direction of a cause. 
The intellect is not content till it has pushed on to 
this resting-place. Save on .the hypothesis of this 
relation between effect and cause, there is not only 
no rational conception of the present phenomena of 
mind and matter, but there is no real connection 
between the past, the present, and the future. Take 
this away, and the relation of all this is destroyed, 
and the frame-work of the universe falls to pieces. 
Existence becomes incoherent as a dream, and the 



4 



CAUSE AND FORCE. 83 

great globe itself but the " baseless fabric of a vis- 
ion." Without this relation, everything becomes 
independent ; everything becomes separated from 
everything else ; everything is its own beginning 
and end. 

Yet, while the idea of cause is the simplest and 
most natural of all ideas, it is at the same time the 
most imperious and most unfathomable. While we 
are compelled to accept it, we strive in vain to 
grasp it. While we are forced by a necessity of our 
nature to seek after it, we cannot tell what it is. 
When we are brought to face the question, what 
that was which existed before existence, and of 
which all that exists was the necessary outcome, we 
can simply pause and confess our inability to answer 
it. In the order of nature, we have only set before 
us an endless succession of consequents and ante- 
cedents, but the connection between these two is 
something of which we can form no idea. Yet, 
while we are capable of forming no conception of 
the nature of a cause, we are none the less con- 
vinced that a cause for every event must exist, and 
that no change can take place without one. And in 
this idea is involved the further idea, not less incon- 
ceivable, that from eternity something must have 
existed. Since something now is, it is equally plain 
that something always was. "This is so evident 
and undeniable a proposition," says Dr. Samuel 
Clarke, " that no atheist in any age has ever pre- 
sumed to assert the contrary." ^ 

If the necessary character of this maxim be con- 
ceded, it is of no consequence, so far as its bearing 
on the theistic argument is concerned, what philo- 

^ {Demonstr. of the Being and Attributes of God (7th ed.), p. 8.] 



84 THE THEISTIC ARGUMENT. 

sophical theory we adopt to account for its origin. 
We may assert that the mind intuitively believes 
that every event is caused ; or that the idea of cause 
is suggested to us from the analogy of that spiritual 
causation of which we are directly conscious in our- 
selves when we put forth an effort ; or explain it 
from the inability of the mind to form any other 
conception ; or hold, with a numerous modern school, 
that the idea of cause is simply a generalization from 
observation. " The law of causation," says Mill, " the 
recognition of which is the main pillar of inductive 
philosophy, is but the familiar truth, that invariabil- 
ity of succession is found by observation to obtain 
between every fact in nature and some fact which 
preceded it." ^ But Hume himself, who was the father 
of this theory, did not deny the necessary connec- 
tion between effect and cause. His elaborate inves- 
tigation into the nature of causation was undertaken 
simply to ascertain why we think it necessary. He 
only sought to show that this connection, so far as 
the mind can know it, is simply the offspring of ex- 
perience. 

Accepting this principle, which no one will deny, 
that for every event there must be a cause, the ques- 
tion next arises. How far does it legitimately carry 
us .'* The notion that the principle of causality can 
only be abstractly applied, has led some to argue that 
it can only result in an eternal succession of causes 
and effects. We have, then, next to ask the question, 
What can be evolved from the idea of cause as it ex- 
ists in our own minds .'' Does this idea demand final- 
ity, or is it satisfied with an endless series } In other 
words, does the same necessity of thought, which 

1 {System of Logic y b. iii., c. v.] 



CAUSE AND FORCE. 85 

requires us to believe in cause at all, require us 
equally to believe in a first cause? The objector 
may urge, '* I hold to causation, but why must I be- 
lieve in a first cause ? What greater difficulties are 
there in an infinite succession of causes than in an 
original and self-existent cause ? Both are abso- 
lutely incomprehensible ; both raise difficulties which 
I cannot solve. But why compel me to choose one 
of these dilemmas rather than the other ? " 

The objection, at first sight, seems plausible, but 
loses its force when we reflect that an infinite series 
does not make a cause, and cause is precisely what 
reason here demands. The real alternative does 
not lie between an infinite series and a first cause, 
but between accepting a first cause, or rejecting the 
idea of cause altogether. We are familiar enough 
with the notion of a proximate or secondary cause, 
and we may form the conception of an indefinite 
succession of real causes, yet all this does not sat- 
isfy our idea of cause. The only true cause is a first 
cause ; when, therefore, the universe is thrown back 
upon an infinite succession, there is a violation of 
the fundamental principle of reason. For an infinite 
succession of causes rests, by the very hypothesis, 
upon no cause. Each particular cause rests, indeed, 
upon the next, but the whole rests on nothing. " The 
reason," says Kant, "is forced to seek somewhere 
its resting-point in the regress of the conditional. 
If something exists, it must be admitted that some- 
thing exists necessarily ; for the contingent exists 
only under the condition of another thing as its 
cause, up to a cause which exists not contingently." ^ 
Reason cannot stop short of this. 

1 Quoted by Mozley, Essays, vol. ii., p. 432. 



86 THE THEISTIC ARGUMENT. 

Now, if it be true that the notion of an infinite 
succession of second causes is incompatible with the 
idea of cause, we have already met the objection, 
that the argument which infers a self-existent cause 
of the universe is a contradiction of the law of 
causality. That every event must have a cause is 
granted ; but if you proceed, it is said, to affirm the 
existence of that which is uncaused you deny the 
principle that you have just asserted. You claim 
more than your argument allows ; you are not de- 
veloping a logical conclusion, but jumping to a result 
that lies far beyond the limit of your reasoning. It 
must be conceded that the idea of a self-existent 
cause does not come under the law of causation. 
But, while the law of causation does not lead log- 
ically up to the conclusion of a first cause, it compels 
us to affirm it. The question why we are compelled 
to make this affirmation is one for which various 
explanations may be given. The fact that every 
one as a reasonable being is forced to do it, is the 
only fact of consequence, and this is a fact that is 
placed beyond dispute by any fair analysis of the 
operations of our own minds. Those who have de- 
nied that the principle of causality thus involves a 
first cause, have been, in fact, forced to the recog- 
nition of the principle under another name. They 
have virtually confessed what they have professed 
to deny. By different paths they have been led to 
the conception of an original ground of all existence, 
and not to the conception of an endless succession 
of second causes. It matters not whether this orig- 
inal ground of all phenomena be termed matter, 
mind, or force, it comes essentially to the same thing 
at last. I do not mean that those who thus hold to 



CAUSE AND FORCE. 8/ 

a permanent element beneath phenomena accept, in 
the strict sense, the doctrine of a First Cause, but 
the readiness with which they adopt this hypothesis 
is conchisive proof of their reluctance to rest in the 
idea of a mere succession of second causes. And it 
should further be observed, that the most inadequate 
explanations of the principle of causality are not 
more incompatible with the theistic inference than 
they are with any scientific inference which involves 
a real extension of knowledge. If compatible with 
anything more than formal and deductive science, 
they are equally compatible with religion. 

The argument which we have here considered is 
metaphysical, for the necessity by which we rise 
from a series of second causes to a first cause, is a 
necessity of thought. It is a result legitimately 
evolved from the very idea of cause. Yet, while 
metaphysical, it must not be confounded with the 
purely a priori speculations of Anselm and Des- 
cartes. For it is reasoning from the external uni- 
verse, not from the abstract conception of the mind. 
This concrete use of the principle of causality, the 
only use which has any meaning, renders the argu- 
ment, in effect, a conclusion from experience. Still, 
it has been urged that, as a fact of experience, cau- 
sation cannot be extended to the material universe 
itself, but only to its changeable phenomena ; and 
that it is a necessary part of the fact of causation, 
within the sphere of our experience, that the causes, 
as well as the effects, had a beginning in time ; since 
if the cause existed always the effect would have ex- 
isted always also. ^' It would seem, therefore," Mr. 
Mills argues, ''that our experience, instead of fur- 
nishing an argument for a first cause, is repugnant 



88 THE THEISTIC ARGUMENT. 

to it ; and that the very essence of causation, as it 
exists within the limits of our knowledge, is incom- 
patible with a first cause." ^ 

In reply, I would say, that no one has ever claimed 
that we gain from experience the idea of a first 
cause, and if we can know nothing but what we gain 
directly from experience, all discussion of cause that 
assigns any meaning to the term may well be, at 
once, abandoned. Yet, in the very essay which I 
have just quoted, Mr. Mill concedes that there 
may be a permanent element in nature beneath its 
changeable phenomena, which may with some jus- 
tice be termed a first or universal cause. But we 
know nothing, by experience, of any such unchang- 
ing element. It is a legitimate hypothesis that the 
substances, which seem to us elementary and in- 
transmutable, are in reality modifications of some 
single element. No chemist has ever recognized, 
in his experience, those ultimate atoms whose exist- 
ence he assumes. If, then, we undertake to assert 
the existence of that permanent element in nature, 
which Mr. Mill so readily concedes, we must pass 
just as much beyond the limits of experience, as 
when, by a necessity of thought, we are led to rea- 
son from a succession of finite causes to a first cause. 
Science, not less than Philosophy, demands a faith 
which transcends all testimony that the senses fur- 
nish. We push no further in one direction than in 
the other. 

The most vigorous assault upon the doctrine of a 
first cause comes, however, in our own time, not 
from the field of metaphysics, but from the field of 
physics ; and this we have next to consider. The 

1 Three Essays, etc. {Theism), p. 144. 



CAUSE AND FORCE. 89 

concrete argument for a first cause starts, as we 
have seen, from our experience of the changes in 
the external universe. These are known to us as 
facts, and for these facts we have to give ourselves 
an account. Yet in all this reasoning, it is as- 
sumed that the universe is an effect, and that it 
owes its existence to a cause distinct from itself. 
And, according to the conception which formerly 
prevailed respecting matter, and the distinction be- 
tween matter and spirit, it is conceded that the view 
that the external universe was an effect was not 
irrational. But it is claimed that the conclusions of 
modern science have changed all this, and that in 
the light of these conclusions we are no longer 
authorized to look upon nature as simply an effect. 
Beside the changing phenomena, which all agree in 
tracing to the operation of causes, vv^e are confronted, 
as we examine it, with permanent and unchangeable 
elements which, so far as we can see, stand in need 
of no such explanation. 

These permanent elements in nature, it is argued, 
are not known to us as beginning to exist ; or, in 
other words, within the range of human knowledge 
they had no beginning, and consequently no cause, 
though they are themselves causes of everything 
that is taking place. The converging evidence of 
all branches of physical inquiry seems to be landing 
us in this result. For wherever a physical phenom- 
enon is traced to its cause, that cause is found, in the 
last analysis, to be a certain quantum of force, com- 
bined with certain collocations,- and the last general- 
ization which science reaches is that this force is 
everywhere essentially the same, and exists in a 
fixed quantity which can neither be lessened nor 



90 THE THE IS TIC ARGUMENT 

increased ; and that the constant changes which we 
witness are due partly to the amount of force and 
partly to the diversity of the collocations. It is only 
to this permanent element in nature that Mr. Mill 
is willing to apply the designation of First Cause, 
that is, the primeval and universal element in all 
causes. ''For all effects," he says, ''may be traced 
up to it, while it cannot be traced up, by our expe- 
rience, to anything beyond." ^ Here we reach the 
last result of physical inquiry. 

This requires perhaps, in passing, a little fuller 
statement. The fundamental maxim on which is 
founded the modern scientific conception of the uni- 
verse is derived from the analytic study of the move- 
ments of matter. For, as the beginning alike of 
chemistry and physics, we have two universal prop- 
ositions, both rendered familiar to us in the popular 
scientific discussions of the past few years. These 
two propositions are that matter is indestructible, 
and that motion is continuous. Upon the validity of 
these two closely related maxims rests the validity 
of every conclusion which chemical or physical sci- 
ence has thus far reached. If the scientific inquirer 
had to deal with quantities which could be either 
wholly or in part annihilated, or with motions which 
could wholly or in part cease, science would at once 
come to an end. The ancients held to the opinion 
that matter might be created or destroyed ; and until 
modern times it was supposed that moving bodies 
had a natural tendency to come to a standstill ; but 
by degrees it was seen that where matter apparently 
disappears, and where motion apparently ceases, 
there is in reality only a subtle transformation into 
another form or into an equivalent quantity. 

1 Three Essays, etc. {Theism), p. 145. 



CAUSE AND FORCE. 9 1 

These two theorems are not fundamental but deriv- 
ative, and thus we are led directly to a more general 
proposition that lies back of both. For in asserting 
that matter is indestructible, and that motion is con- 
tinuous, we assert by implication that force is persis- 
tent, that is, that the force manifested in the known 
universe is constant, and can neither be increased 
nor diminished. For, it is evident, that the inde- 
structible element in matter is its resisting power, 
or the force which it exerts, and that when motion 
is arrested we are obliged to conceive of force as im- 
pressed in the shape of reaction on the bodies caus- 
ing the arrest. Strictly speaking, we have no proof 
of the proposition that force is thus persistent. It 
is a truth which does not admit of demonstration. 
At the bottom of all demonstration there must lie 
an axiom which itself is undemonstrable. We are 
compelled to believe in the persistence of force, sim- 
ply for the reason that it is impossible to conceive 
of something becoming nothing, or of nothing be- 
coming something. We pass beyond the realm of 
experience, and appeal to a psychological necessity. 
Science lands us, at last, in a transcendental region 
— all her conclusions are seen to rest upon a pos- 
tulate which we recognize as a law of conscious 
thought. 

In this persistent force, of which all the phenom- 
ena of the universe are but modes of manifestation, 
we have given us, it is claimed, that permanent ele- 
ment, to which, if to anything, we must assign the 
character of a first cause. Nor is this reasoning es- 
sentially affected if we claim that mind, so far as 
experience teaches us, is the only thing capable of 
originating change, and that therefore this original 



92 THE THEISTIC ARGUMENT. 

force from which all change results must be identi- 
fied with mind. For if the doctrine of the conserva- 
tion of force be true, the will does not, any more than 
any other cause, originate force, it simply directs 
into a particular channel a portion of the force al- 
ready working in other ways. Volition is an origi- 
nating cause only so far as it liberates a certain 
amount of force evolved in the physical processes of 
the human system. Volition, therefore, does not 
answer to the idea of a first cause, since force must, 
in every instance, be assumed as prior to it, and 
there is no reason for supposing force itself to have 
been created by volition. Thus so far as the lights 
of science guide us, and so far as human experience 
teaches anything, ** we may conclude that force has 
all the attributes of a thing eternal and uncreated." ^ 
If it be urged that mind at least exists, and that 
mind must have produced mind, we are pointed to 
numberless analogies of nature in proof of the fact 
that nobler and more precious products are con 
stantly derived from a viler material, and that the de- 
velopment of the superior from the inferior, the elab- 
oration of the higher from the lower is the general 
law. Mind does not therefore demand mind as its 
original cause. And, as a result, we are brought to 
this conclusion, "that the argument for a first cause 
may be dismissed, since no cause is needed for that 
which had no beginning. The phenomena and 
changes in the universe have, indeed, each of them a 
beginning and a cause, but this cause is always some 
prior change ; nor do the analogies of experience give 
us any reason to expect, from the mere occurrence 
of changes, that if we could trace the series far 

1 Three Essays, etc. {Theism)^ p. 147. 



CAUSE AND FORCE. 93 

enough back, we should arrive at a primeval voli- 
tion. The world does not, by its mere existence, 
bear witness to a God." ^ Thus on reasonings de- 
duced from the conclusions of physical science the 
doctrine of a first cause is set aside as a wholly gra- 
tuitous hypothesis. 

Undoubtedly the argument which I have just 
sketched, an argument urged with so much calmness 
and made to rest on the most indubitable results of 
modern science, seems the most powerful assault 
upon the doctrine of a first cause that has yet been 
made. The mere metaphysical grounds of that doc- 
trine are wholly set aside. The questions so much 
debated by a certain school of thinkers, whether 
from the consideration of a chain of second causes 
we are compelled, by a necessity of thought, to as- 
sume a first cause, whether from the contingent and 
finite we can leap up by a legitimate process of mind 
to the infinite and absolute, are no longer of conse- 
quence. If it be granted that some kind of being 
must always have existed, and that the universe in 
the endless transformation of its own primeval forces 
contains within itself its own causal principles, the 
hypothesis of any other source ceases to be a logical 
necessity. In short, if the universe be not an effect, 
we are not required to infer a cause. For the afiQr- 
mation of a first cause being a regressive inference 
from the existence of a special class of effects, it 
is evident that the whole argument hinges on the 
question, does such a state of things really exist as 
is only possible through the agency of a supra-mun- 
dane cause. 

Once Locke wrote the words, " If it be said, there 

^ Three Essays, etc. ( Theism), p. 153- 



94 THE THEISTIC ARGUMENT. 

was a time when no being had any knowledge, when 
that eternal being was void of all understanding, I 
reply, that then it was impossible there should ever 
have been any knowledge ; it being as impossible 
that things wholly void of knowledge and operating 
blindly and without perception should produce a 
knowing being, as it is impossible that a triangle 
should make itself three angles bigger than two right 
ones. For it is as repugnant to the idea of senseless 
matter that it should put into itself sense, percep- 
tion, and knowledge, as it is repugnant to the idea 
of a triangle that it should put into itself greater an- 
gles than two right ones." The argument was con- 
clusive in his day, and with the notion of the distinc- 
tion between spirit and matter that then prevailed. 
But in our day, matter is no longer conceived of as 
senseless. Our notions respecting it are radically 
changed. If we do not go to the extent of Professor 
Tyndall's famous declaration, and see in it " the 
promise and potency of all terrestrial life," we are 
compelled to view it in a light which goes very far 
to destroy the sharp antithesis between spirit and 
matter which prevailed in the time of Locke. It is 
a sum of forces and of forces which are indestruc- 
tible. 

When, however, we consider more closely this 
most recent objection to the old doctrine of a First 
Cause, a few obvious reflections present themselves. 

In the first place, what is essential in the idea is 
in effect conceded. For the theory of an original, 
indestructible force is, after all, but a method of ac- 
counting for change. And in accounting for change 
it not only concedes that every change in nature 
had a cause, but that back of all change lies some- 



CAUSE AND FORCE. 95 

thing persistent and unchangeable. This goes far 
beyond the position of the early positivists, who 
denied that the conception of an original cause had 
any legitimate place in scientific investigation, and 
also recognizes the principle, before insisted on, 
that the mind cannot rest with an endless succes- 
sion of second causes. There is, after all, in this 
theory the positive affirmation of something lying 
behind the finite and the conditioned. We may ap- 
ply to it what designation we please, but we cannot 
get rid of the fact that the most refined conception 
of the universe that science has yet reached is a 
conception that leads us back to an absolute and 
eternal source of all the phenomena of existence. 

In the second place, the subtle conception of the 
material universe which we here reach is not a result 
of experience, or of any scientific experiment, but a 
purely abstract and metaphysical conception. If the 
idea of a first cause, in the ordinary sense of the 
term, is a metaphysical idea, the idea of a primeval 
force is not less metaphysical. We arrive at it 
purely as a deduction from the two doctrines of the 
indestructibility of matter and the continuance of 
motion, and, too, the truth of neither one of these 
doctrines has ever been absolutely established by 
experiment. They are seen to be true by a neces- 
sity of thought. Hence, in this discussion, the an- 
tithesis is not between metaphysics and science, but 
between two purely metaphysical conceptions. The 
two hypotheses, that the first cause was self-existing 
mind, and that the first cause was self-existing mat- 
ter, considered simply as hypotheses, are of exactly 
equivalent value. To say that one rests upon a 
solid basis of fact while the other is merely a logical 



96 THE THE IS TIC ARGUMENT. 

notion of the intellect, is a statement for which 
there is no ground whatever, since the facts to be 
accounted for are the same in either case. The 
only question is which hypothesis covers those facts 
most completely. 

Science, then, does not rid us of the metaphysical 
necessity of inferring some kind of first cause ; the 
only real issue is whether this first cause must be con- 
ceived of as mind or matter ; whether we are bound 
to infer some action of conscious intelligence in the 
production of the ceaseless changes, of the begin- 
ning of which we have no knowledge, or may we as 
rationally refer them to the operation of blind force. 
So far as relates to the bare metaphysical concep- 
tion of a first cause, it makes but little difference 
whether we assume it to be mind, or whether, assum- 
ing it to be matter, we proceed to sublimate our idea 
of matter, and endue it with such powers and po- 
tencies that the dividing line between mind and 
matter is practically wiped out. For the bare ab- 
stract conception, if that is all that we are in search 
of, will be furnished by one assumption as well as 
by the other. At best, such a conception is only 
a colorless beginning ; it satisfies a necessity of 
thought, but does not set us forward in the way of 
any actual knowledge ; its only value, so far as nat- 
ural theology is concerned, consists in its laying 
the foundation of a structure, to be built with other 
material. We only weary ourselves by seeking thus 
to climb the ladder of finite agency, and mount back 
through the long series of dependent sequences to 
one uncaused cause, if we do not proceed to with- 
draw the result we have reached from the region of 
metaphysics. "The notion of a God," says Sir Wil- 



CAUSE AND FORCE. 97 

liam Hamilton, " is not contained in the notion of a 
mere first cause ; for, in the admission of a first 
cause, atheist and theist are at one." ^ What we are 
in search of, as the foundation of rehgion, is not a 
blank essence, or an inconceivable substance. It is 
only when we have completed and perfected the 
idea, and when we return to it with the results of 
further inquiry, that the idea of a first cause be- 
comes clothed with religious significance. Yet, in- 
complete and unsatisfactory as is the mere abstract 
conception of a first cause, it is still an essential 
part of that complex and comprehensive reasoning 
on which, as we have seen, the argument for the 
divine existence rests ; and it is a point of no small 
importance thus to ascertain at the outset of our 
inquiry, that recent science, instead of dismissing 
the hypothesis, has supplied us with a striking evi- 
dence of the impossibility of excluding it from ra- 
tional thought. 

For this reason, I find myself wholly unable to 
agree with those advocates of theism who would 
wholly dismiss the doctrine of a first cause from the 
science of natural theology. A recent writer. Pro- 
fessor Knight, himself a strenuous theist, is a repre- 
sentative of this class. He does not hesitate to say 
that the argument for a first cause belongs to the 
same class with the long-discarded arguments of 
Anselm and Descartes, and that it is not less illu- 
sory. But this ingenious writer seems to forget 
that the old a priori arguments were mere reason- 
ings from conceptions of the mind, while the argu- 
ment for a first cause, as here presented, is an argu- 
ment from an external fact, a fact whose reality is 

1 [Lectures on Metaphysics, Lect. ii., page 19.] 
7 



98 THE THE IS TIC ARGUMENT 

not questioned, and whose existence demands ex- 
planation ; and when he further claims that it is by 
an illicit process when, in the argument for a first 
cause, we rise from the finite to the infinite, he im- 
putes to the argument a conclusion which it does 
not claim, for in the guarded form in which I have 
presented it, it has not been claimed for the first 
cause that it is infinite. From the universe as an 
effect, we have simply argued a cause, and all that 
we have undertaken to show further is that a mere 
sequence of second causes does not furnish what the 
reason craves. I concede that in the bare idea of a 
first cause we do not have the idea of God. Much 
remains to be done before this abstract and empty 
conception is filled out and completed to a full 
theistic conclusion. But the notion of a first cause 
is one essential step towards this result, and I con- 
ceive it to be a matter of no little moment, if the 
theories of force, with which modern science has 
made us so familiar, can be shown, after all, to be 
simply disguised forms of the old doctrine of a first 
cause, and to be but lame and impotent substitutes 
for that earlier conception. It is something to be 
assured that so far as science has established any 
theoretical conclusions, these conclusions confirm 
the doctrine that the universe must have had its 
origin in something back of itself, and that if science 
cannot herself give us the idea of a first cause, she 
has, at least, reached no conclusions inconsistent 
with it. The notion that the doctrine of a first 
cause has been wiped out by the modern theory of 
force, may be dismissed as a mistake. 



LECTURE IV. 

THE ARGUMENT FROM ORDER. 

We have advanced thus far in our argument to 
the conception of a first cause, and if I have not 
failed of my aim in the considerations that I have 
presented, I have made it plain that this conception 
in some form is implied in any explanation that has 
been attempted of the origin of the universe as it 
now exists. The most opposite schools of thought 
agree in this, that if something exists, something 
must have always existed, and that the unceasing 
change which we witness on every hand can only find 
a sufficient ground in something that is unchange- 
able. The mind refuses to rest short of this solu- 
tion. We have now to ask, what do we know re- 
specting the nature of this first cause. Is it eternal 
matter, or is it eternal mind ; is it force acting 
blindly, without direction and without aim, achiev- 
ing its results by a natural development over which 
no conscious intelligence has presided, an eternal 
rhythm of evolution and of dissolution, or is it in- 
telligence, intelligence above nature and working 
through it, making the operations of nature and the 
infinite manifestations of physical force subservient 
to its wise and all comprehending purposes .-* 

It is evident that unless we can give some answer 
to this question, all that we have previously ascer- 
tained is Uttle to the purpose. On the mere abstract 



100 THE THE IS TIC ARGUMENT. 

question of a first cause there is really no debate. 
The most extreme materialist at the present day is 
willing to concede it, provided that no attempt is 
made to define it. But if it remains undefined the 
theist has gained no advantage that is worth con- 
tending for. If we cannot proceed to clothe this first 
cause with attributes, if we cannot connect it with 
intelligence and with personality, we have not ad- 
vanced a step in satisfying the demands of religion. 
In other words, a mere formal demonstration of the 
original source of existence has no theological value. 
It remains a colorless, unillumined admission, at 
best ministering comfort only to the speculative rea- 
son. And if it thus remains an absolute zero, inac- 
cessible to inquiry, the blank ground of existence, it 
matters very little whether we insist upon regarding 
it as mind, or whether we identify it with the ethe- 
realized forms of matter with which modern science 
has made us so familiar. Whether it be termed 
cause or force is a question of little moment. 

We have thus far viewed the universe simply as 
one endless series of changes ; let us now proceed to 
subject these changes to a closer examination. And 
what strikes us at the first glance is the universal 
prevalence of order. I say at first glance, for though 
the nature and endless manifestations of the order 
that runs through the universe are only partially 
perceived, after prolonged and elaborate investiga- 
tion, the fact of the existence of this order is the 
first thing that strikes the observing eye. We are 
not more impressed with the great fact of change 
than with the fact that change everywhere proceeds 
in accordance with fixed and invariable rule. The 
first shepherds who watched their flocks under the 



THE ARGUMENT FROM ORDER. 1 01 

clear oriental sky, must have noted the fact that the 
stars in their courses marched in an orderly proces- 
sion ; and the earliest inhabitants of the earth must 
have waited with implicit confidence for each new 
rising of the sun that would bathe the world with 
light and call men once more to the labors of the 
day. And all subsequent advance of human science 
has been simply the following out of this first sug- 
gestion. 

But this advance of science, without modifying 
the principle, has given it an immense extension. 
The earliest observers of the changes of the exter- 
nal world, while profoundly impressed with the prev- 
alence of law, were hardly less perplexed with its 
frequent absence. If the outgoings of morning and 
of evening, if the solemn march of the constellations, 
if the waxing and waning of the moon spoke of 
regular and orderly succession, there were other 
changes which refused to be reduced to rule, and 
which seemed, to their uninstructed eye, signs of 
disorder and confusion. The flaming comet speed- 
ing unheralded across the sky was to them the por- 
tent of direful change. In its train were pestilence 
and war, and the fate of empires. It seemed a fear- 
ful intruder into the harmony of things. It has been 
the mission of science to extend further and further 
on every hand the reign of law, and to show that 
what at first sight appears most exceptional, most 
unaccountable, most incapable of being reduced to 
regular rule, is after all but another and more strik- 
ing illustration of this principle, a principle which 
equally finds its illustration in the falling of a peb- 
ble to the ground, and the flight of a flaming sphere 
through the furthest removes of space. 



102 THE THEISTIC ARGUMENT. 

And what is shown so clearly in the grandest 
works of nature is shown not less clearly in the 
least. I heard not long ago of a visit paid by one 
of the first of living botanists to a friend, whose 
summer home was on one of the most barren and 
rocky headlands of our stern New England coast. 
On his arrival, his host laughingly apologized for 
having invited him to a spot that presented so little 
opportunity for indulging his favorite pursuit, re- 
marking that nothing grew there but a few imported 
trees, whose stunted growth seemed only to reveal 
the ungenial nature of the soil. " On the contrary," 
replied the guest, '' I see much to reward me, and I 
will engage, before we sit down to dine, to gather 
three hundred distinct specimens of plants." And 
each of these, so small most of them that only the 
most practiced eye could detect them lurking in the 
crevices of the rocks, so delicate that scores of them 
were crushed under foot by each step of a careless 
child playing with his ball or driving his hoop, was 
fashioned in its growth in accordance with its own 
law, and could be recognized by minute differences 
of structure as distinct from each of its fellows, and 
illustrated in its way, not less than Orion and Arc- 
turus, the order of the world. 

But I am reciting mere commonplace when I say 
that order pervades the universe. It is obvious to 
the eye of the child led out by the hand for the first 
time to gaze at the starry heavens ; it is the last 
thing noticed by the man of science whose optic 
glass has swept the flaming walls of space, or whose 
microscope has searched out the minutest forms of 
the vegetable or animal creation. And it is not 
only a fact of to-day, but runs equally back through 



THE ARGUMENT FROM ORDER. 103 

all epochs of astronomical or of geological time. It 
has been the common work of all the sciences since 
the day when man first assumed the great office of 
making himself the minister and interpreter of na- 
ture, to discover and to illustrate it. Science is in 
fact but another name for this progressive and ever 
extending knowledge of the order of nature, for 
there can be no science which is not an advance of 
knowledge in this direction. And it is the pride 
and boast of science that it is achieving this result, 
that with each new step it is bringing what seems 
irregular and exceptional within the realms of order, 
and demonstrating that what have passed for excep- 
tions, when intelligently comprehended, are simply 
proofs of a larger and more comprehensive order. 

Perhaps the most impressive result of this more 
scientific apprehension of the order of the world 
has been the ascertainment of the fact that the laws 
of the physical universe are laws of mathematical 
relations. Thus the law of gravitation, which rules 
the grains of dust in the sunbeam and the farthest 
orb that revolves beyond the reach of human vision, 
is a definite numerical law. The curves which the 
heavenly bodies describe in their revolutions around 
the sun and around one another belong to the class 
of curves known as the conic sections, — curves the 
proportions of which were investigated by geometers 
centuries before Kepler and Newton had revealed 
the true system of the heavens. The law of chem- 
ical combination always admits of precise numerical 
expression. Each color in the rainbow that spans 
the arch of heaven, and makes the heart leap up, is 
due to a certain number of vibrations within a given 
time, and so are the long-drawn notes of the organ 



104 THE THEISTIC ARGUMENT. 

that uplift the soul in praise, or the accents of the 
human voice, melting with tenderness from a moth- 
er's lips, or thrilling the ear with the accents of an- 
guish and despair. A crystal is frozen geometry, 
and the feathers in the wings and tail of the hum- 
ming-bird are all numbered. 

The universe everywhere reveals itself to us as a 
whole, all the parts of which are related to each 
other by precise and unvarying laws. The system 
of which our earth is a member is a vast and orderly 
system, the various parts of which are so adjusted, 
as regards mass and magnitude, and distance, and 
rate and plane of motion, that the w^hole is ren- 
dered stable and secure. And our solar system, so 
far as we can see, is only one of millions of systems, 
all as arranged and distributed in relation to one an- 
other as to secure the same result. While each orb 
is affecting the orbit of every other, while each is 
exerting a constant influence which, if left uncoun- 
teracted, would destroy itself and all the rest, all are 
balanced in their motions with such wondrous accu- 
racy as to convert the element of danger into a 
source of strength. And so in the structure of mat- 
ter we are everywhere confronted with the same 
system of definite proportions, no chemical union 
being possible except where the different elements 
bear to each other a definite numerical ratio. The 
least alteration of this proportion would convert the 
most wholesome substances into the most deadly 
poisons, and, instead of furnishing nutriment to ani- 
mals and plants, spread everywhere destruction and 
death. 

The reign of law is then the result which science 
has everywhere reached. It lies at the root of every 



THE ARGUMENT FROM ORDER. 105 

conception we can form of the universe, either with- 
out us or within us ; for while regularity and order 
are most conspicuous in the grand phenomena of 
the external world, we are not less assured of their 
pervading presence in the most intricate and ob- 
scure processes of life. Beginning with astronomy, 
the idea has passed to every department of science, 
and to every domain of thought. It refuses to be 
excluded from any sphere where there is change and 
progress and growth. It meets us at every step. 
This order which science finds in nature may be de- 
scribed as either general or special ; the character- 
istic of the former being regularity, and of the lat- 
ter adaptation. In inorganic nature, general order 
is more apparent ; in organic nature, special order. 
By some — for example. Professor Flint — these are 
treated simply as parts of the same argument ; but 
it rather seems to me that they are distinct, and that 
the latter, which is termed the argument of design, 
derives its main support from the much more com- 
prehensive argument from general laws. Order or 
regularity is a simple fact, while design is an infer- 
ence from a fact. 

The argument from order, strictly speaking, is a 
corollary of the idea of cause. If, as here seen, the 
changes in the phenomenal universe carry us back 
irresistibly to a cause not simply of each individual 
phenomenon, but of the phenomena as a whole, the 
order and regularity displayed in these phenomena 
in the same way suggest an intelligent cause. As 
the fact of order is universal and evident, so is the 
inference, if made at all, a necessity of thought. 
But the end for which things exist is not self-evi- 
dent ; it is the consequence of an induction. We 



I06 THE THEISTIC ARGUMENT. 

cannot, therefore, affirm that the principle of finality 
is universal and necessary, like the principle of caus- 
ality. No doubt, the doctrine of final causes, if es- 
tablished, gives an immense support and extension 
to the argument from order, but the two arguments 
rest upon different grounds : one is the discussion 
of a product, the other of a process. I am there- 
fore unable to agree with Professor Flint, that the 
arguments are essentially identical.^ It is true that 
the argument from design rests on the recognition 
of nature as displaying order and adjustment, yet 
the two notions are not equivalent in the first in- 
stance. Thus no order is more rigorous than the 
order of mechanics, yet we have no proof here of 
final cause.2 

Proceeding, then, first to consider the argument 
from order, at the outset we shall need to subject 
the conception of natural law to a brief examination. 
We are accustomed to use the term law in very 
different senses. Thus we apply it equally to de- 
scribe physical, or moral, or juridical relations. We 
speak of the law which determines the velocity of a 
falling body, of the law which conscience will not 
suffer us to violate, of the law which the judge ad- 
ministers upon the bench. Perhaps the most gen- 
eral definition of the word is that made familiar to 
us by Montesquieu, " that laws are the necessary 
relations which arise from the nature of things." 
On the other hand, the late John Austin, who rigor- 
ously limited the definition of law to the commands 
of a superior, rejected Ulpian's explanation of the 
law of nature, and ridiculed as fustian the famous 

1 Prof. R. Flint, Theism, p. 158. 

2 Janet, Final Causes (Edinburgh, 1878), p. 12. 



THE ARGUMENT FROM ORDER. lOJ 

description in Hooker. If we restrict the term to its 
original and proper sense, law must be defined as 
the authoritative expression of will, enforced by 
power. But by long usage the term has come to 
have various derivative and secondary senses, and is 
now habitually used by those who would wholly re- 
ject its primary signification. It is only in these 
secondary senses that we speak of the laws of na- 
ture. 

The primary and simplest sense in which the term 
" law " is applied to physical phenomena, is that in 
which it is used simply to express an observed order 
of facts, or, in other words, facts which under the 
same conditions always follow each other in the same 
order. This was the sense in which the word was 
used by the late Mr. Buckle, who seemed, at least in 
the earlier chapters of his work, to cherish the opin- 
ion that the mere accumulation of statistics was suf- 
ficient to furnish a basis not only for physical, but 
also for social laws. In this sense, the laws of nature 
are simply those phenomena which recur according 
to an empirical rule. For the application of the term 
in this sense, it is not necessary that the cause of this 
regular recurrence should be known or presumed. 
All that was required was that the order should be 
uniform and constant. The so-called laws of Kepler 
are illustrations of this application of the term. Be- 
ginning with strange, mystical views of the heavenly 
bodies, and supposing at first that the sun, stars, 
and planets were divinely constituted symbols of the 
doctrine of the Trinity, he was led by his instinctive 
search for harmony to recognize the remarkable 
mathematical relations between the distances of the 
different planets from the sun and the length of 



I08 THE THEISTIC ARGUMENT. 

their periodic times, and again between the velocity 
of their motion and the space inclosed between 
corresponding sections of their orbit. These were 
termed laws, but they were in reality simply an order 
of facts, established simply by observation, and not 
connected with any theoretical explanation : and the 
larger part of what are called laws, in every science, 
are simply facts of this description. Thus, in chem- 
istry, the relation of different substances to each 
other in respect to combination and affinity, a rela- 
tion which is simply the result of observation, and 
concerning which all that is known is that, under 
the same conditions, it will be manifested with the 
same regularity, is in the same way defined as a law. 

But the ascertainment of this regularity leads in- 
stinctively to the search for a deeper explanation. 
For an observed order of facts, to be entitled to the 
designation of law, must carry with it the idea of 
some necessity out of which this uniform and reg- 
ular result arises. Hence law comes to mean, in the 
second place, not only an observed order of facts, 
but a persistent force, from the constant operation 
of which as an arranging cause this observed order 
springs. 

But the mind refuses to rest content with this. 
The conviction that some force lies thus at the bot- 
tom of all phenomena, causing them thus to recur 
with unfailing regularity, prompts us next to search 
out the rule or method by which it operates. Of 
law in this third sense we have a great example in 
that ascertained by Newton, the discovery of which 
ranks him so much above Kepler as a philosophical 
investigator. In the Newtonian theory of gravita- 
tion we have not merely a force, but a force accu- 



i 



THE ARGUMENT FROM ORDER. 1 09 

rately defined according to the mode and measure of 
its operation, and from which other phenomena arise 
by necessary consequence. So that the law of grav- 
itation was not merely an observed order, nor 
merely an abstract conception assumed as a neces- 
sity of thought, but a force the exact measure of 
which was numerically ascertained and defined. 
The three laws of Kepler were simply facts, the 
grand discovery of Newton revealed their connec- 
tion and their cause. Yet laws in these three senses 
simply explain the order of subordinate phenomena. 
They set forth that order as due to force. But here 
they leave us. There are far more curious questions 
which they do not answer. 

The law of gravitation is undoubtedly the grand- 
est discovery connected with the material universe 
that the human mind has yet made. It is the most 
universal of all laws, for so far as we can see it per- 
vades all space. It is the most familiar of all laws, 
for we cannot stir without confessing its operation. 
It has been analyzed with mathematical precision. 
We know, with certainty, that it is a force of attrac- 
tion operating " directly as the mass and inversely 
as the square of the distance." Yet after all how 
little do we know about it ! It gives us no explana- 
tion of itself. What is the cause of this force, which, 
so far as we can tell, pervades all space ; what is the 
source of the power which it is ceaselessly putting 
forth upon worlds beside which our great globe it- 
self dwindles in insignificance, and upon specks in 
the sunbeam which only the microscope reveals, 
through what medium it operates, how the exact 
uniformity of its operations is always and every- 
where maintained, — all these are questions to which 



no THE THEISTIC ARGUMENT. 

science, as yet, cannot give us any answer. With 
strict and sober truth did Newton, after his great 
discovery, describe himself simply as picking up a 
few pebbles by the shore of a boundless sea. 

Let us now turn to another fact quite as prom- 
inent as the universal presence and prevalence of 
law, and that is, the great variety of laws that exist 
around us on every hand, and are directly concerned 
in every operation of nature. For no one law deter- 
mines anything that we see happening around us.' 
Whatever happens is always the result of different 
and opposing forces, that are nicely balanced against 
each other. And the least disturbance in the pro- 
portion in which each one is allowed to operate, 
would produce a total change in the result. Thus, 
the force of gravitation would wreck our solar sys- 
tem did not another force act against it and keep 
the planets in their paths. And the more we study 
nature the more intricate do we find these combina- 
tions of opposing forces. The most recent physio- 
logical research seems to show that our very mus- 
cles are thus seats of two antagonistic powers, so 
arranged that the will by acting upon one may reg- 
ulate the action of the other. We are fearfully and 
wonderfully made. Force combines with force to 
produce definite and orderly results. And thus we 
reach a fourth sense in which law is used to describe 
not mere individual force, but an adjustment of 
forces for the attainment of a definite end. 

Nor can we stop even here. It is at once the in- 
stinct of mind and the business of science to rise 
from the visible to the invisible, from what we ob- 
serve by sense to what we infer by reason. And 
here we reach a fifth meaning of the term law, where 



THE ARGUMENT FROM ORDER. m 

it is used to denote some purely abstract idea which 
carries us up to a higher conception of what phe- 
nomena are, and how they are caused. There may 
be no phenomena known to us within the range of 
experience which actually correspond to such idea, 
and yet it may be logically implied in all phenomena 
around us. Thus what is termed the first law of mo- 
tion, that all motion in itself is uniform in velocity 
and rectilinear in direction, is an abstract concep- 
tion which no student of physics has ever seen ex- 
emplified, yet it is not the less essential to a true 
explanation of all the motions that are actually seen. 
It belongs to the class of purely intellectual concep- 
tions which alone render intelligible to us this order 
of the material world. These conceptions have 
guided all great pioneers of science in the path of 
discovery. These happy guesses, which are but the 
intuitions of the finest minds, have their origin in 
an aptitude for comprehending the real facts of the 
external world under these purely abstract concep- 
tions.^ 

Before passing from these discriminated senses in 
which we apply the term law to the material uni- 
verse, there are two important considerations which 
should not be overlooked. 

In the first place, that character of invariableness 
or immutability which we are accustomed to attrib- 
ute to the laws of nature is true only in a single 
sense, and that is in the sense in which we use the 
term law to designate a single force. Thus gravita- 
tion, so far as we know, always operates according 
to a rigid mathematical rule. But when laws are 
not conceived of as single, but as combined, instead 

1 Duke of Argyle, The Reign of Law, chap. 2. 



112 THE THEISTIC ARGUMENT. 

of being immutable in their operation they are the 
agencies of ceaseless change. To say, therefore, as 
is often said, that all phenomena are governed by in- 
variable laws, is only to express a partial truth, since 
there are no phenomena within the range of human 
experience of which it can be strictly said that they 
are governed by an invariable force. That, on the 
contrary, which governs them is endlessly varying 
combinations of invariable forces. There is no ob- 
served order of facts which is not due to a combina- 
tion of forces, and there is no combination of forces 
which is not capable of infinite change. If it be 
true that laws are invariable, it is not less true that 
they are subject to endless variation. 

The second consideration is that, so far as we can 
see, no result is ever attained in nature except 
through the agency of law. There is nowhere any- 
thing forced, anything sudden, anything fortuitous. 
All phenomena with which we are acquainted are 
due to causes, and these causes are combinations of 
invariable forces. In the organic world all things 
around us grow. This is not more true of the 
familiar operations of nature, which we see on every 
hand, than of the extraordinary results which at first 
startle and perplex us. In this respect we simply 
copy nature. The most elaborate and intricate ma- 
chines contrived by human wit are simply combina- 
tions of natural forces for producing some desired 
result. The *' light out-speeding telegraph," which 
leaps across the frosty Caucasus and glides beneath 
the oozy bottom of the deep, is nothing but a contriv- 
ance for putting natural forces in operation ; and 
the electric ray, with its cunningly devised battery 
of hexagonal cells, subdivided by horizontal plates, 



THE ARGUMENT FROM ORDER. 1 13 

is nothing more. The laws enlisted in the works of 
nature are many, and various and complicated ; our 
knowledge of them and of their mode of operation is 
very limited, but we find no result that is not reached 
through their agency. 

Up to this point in our argument there is no dis- 
pute. The theist and his opponent are equally 
agreed in the interpretation of nature that has been 
thus far presented. Both are ready to admit that the 
universe considered as a wdiole presents this charac- 
teristic of order and uniformity, that its phenomena 
are in all cases due to the operation of invariable laws 
or forces, and that the operation of these forces pro- 
ceeds in accordance with methods and principles 
which demand for their explanation the most refined 
analysis of modern science. The question now arises, 
how shall this be explained. What hypothesis shall 
we adopt to account for the universal presence alike 
in the most sublime and in the most insignificant 
of nature ; processes of what in human operations 
we should ascribe without hesitation to a directing 
mind 1 Shall the external world be regarded as the 
expression of a supreme intelligence, an intelligence 
which has reflected itself in the wondrous order and 
in the harmonious combinations, and in the intricate 
mathematical relations which the works of nature un- 
doubtedly display ; shall the laws which mind alone 
can recognize be accepted as the necessary products 
and operations of mind } 

No one questions that this would be the natural 
and logical conclusion in dealing with any results due 
to human or finite agency. Have we a right to carry 
this reasoning into the transcendent region of the 

Infinite ? Here let it be noted that the inference 
8 



114 ^-^^^ THEISTIC ARGUMENT. 

which the theist undertakes to draw from the exist- 
ence of order in the universe, is simply the inference 
of an intelligence that produced that order. It is, 
therefore, an unfair objection to urge that the argu- 
ment cannot prove anything as to the creation of the 
universe, but only as to its fashioner, that it only goes 
to show that mind was concerned in the orderly dis- 
position of that which previously existed. Let what 
has before been said be borne constantly in mind, 
that the argument for the being of God is manifest, 
and this inference from the order and harmony of 
the world is only part of it. The argument for a 
first cause has already been considered, and the 
present argument does not undertake to stand apart 
from that. It must be admitted that the immediate 
inference from the order of the universe is to an 
intelligent framer of the universe, not to a creator ; 
but if the order of the universe cannot have orig- 
inated with matter, the intelligence which formed it 
must have been an eternal intelligence. 

The argument which we are now considering from 
the order of the universe may be concisely stated 
in these words : there must be a Supreme Mind, 
because such and such organic structures must in 
some way have been ultimately due to intelligence. 
And not only so, but every phenomenon in the uni- 
verse must have been due to the same source, since 
all are alike subject to the same method of sequence, 
so that the argument becomes connective, and the 
united effect of so vast a body of evidence is to point 
us irresistibly to some one explanatory cause. The 
scope of the argument is, the force, coextensive with 
the universe ; and it is not surprising that some of 
the most earnest of the recent opponents of theism 



THE ARGUMENT FROM ORDER. 1 1 5 

have recognized this as the most formidable weapon 
drawn from the armory of natural theology. It is 
admitted that the perpetual and uninterrupted uni- 
formity of method is a cogent if not a convincing 
proof of a presiding intelligence, since the progress 
of science has rendered the hypothesis of fortuity 
irrational. " And let us think of this Supreme Caus- 
ality as we may," says one of the ablest of these, 
" the fact remains that from it there emanates a 
directive inference of uninterrupted consistency, on 
a scale of stupendous magnitude and exact pre- 
cision, worthy of our highest possible conceptions 
of Deity." 

This argument from the order of the universe has 
received so powerful and lucid a statement from 
Baden Powell, that I cannot do better than borrow 
his words : — 

" The very essence of the whole argument is the inva- 
riable preservation of the principle of order ; not neces- 
sarily such as we can directly recognize, but the universal 
conviction of the unfailing subordination of everything to 
some grand principles of law, however imperfectly appre- 
hended in our partial conceptions, and the successive 
subordination of such laws to others of still higher gener- 
ality, to an extent transcending our conceptions, and con- 
stituting the true chain of universal causation which cul- 
minates in the sublime conception of the Cosmos. 

" To a correct apprehension of the whole argument, 
the one essential requisite is to have attained a complete 
and satisfactory grasp of this one grand principle of law 
pervading nature, or rather constituting the very idea of 
nature ; which forms the vital essence of the whole of in- 
ductive science, and the sole assurance of those higher 
inferences from the inductive study of natural causes, 
which are the indications of a supreme intelligence and a 
moral cause. 



Il6 THE THEISTIC ARGUMENT, 

" The whole of the discussion must stand or fall with 
the admission of this grand principle. 

" If we read a book which it requires much thought 
and exercise of reason to understand, but which we find 
discloses more and more truth and reason as we proceed 
in the study, and contains clearly more than we can at 
present comprehend, then undeniably we properly say 
that thought and reason exist in that book irrespectively 
of our minds, and equally so of every question as to its 
author or origin. Such a book confessedly exists, and is 
ever open to us in the natural world. When the astron- 
omer, the physicist, the geologist, or the naturalist notes 
down a series of observed facts or measured dates, he 
is not an author expressing his own ideas, he is a mere 
amanuensis taking down the dictations of nature ; his 
observation book is the record of the thoughts of another 
mind ; he has but set down literally what he himself does 
not understand, or only very imperfectly. 

" That which requires thought and reason to under- 
stand must be itself thought and reason. That which 
mind alone can investigate or express must be itself mind. 
And if the highest conception attained is but partial, then 
the mind and reason studied is greater than the mind 
and reason of the student. If the more it be studied the 
more vast and complex is the necessary connection in 
reason disclosed, then the more evident is the vast extent 
and compass of the intelligence thus partially manifested, 
and its reality, as existing in the immutably connected 
order of objects examined, independently of the mind of 
the investigator. 

" But considerations of this kind, just and transcend- 
ently important as they are in themselves, give us no aid 
in any inquiry into the origin of the order of things thus 
investigated, or the fiature or other attributes of the mind 
evinced in them." ^ 

1 Order of Nature, by Baden Powell, quoted by ** Physicus " in 
Theism, pp. 47-51. 



THE ARGUMENT FROM ORDER. ny 

We need to note carefully the precise scope of 
the argument here presented. It simply infers from 
the order of the universe the presence of intelli- 
gence. It claims to go no further ; it makes no con- 
clusion respecting the nature or attributes of this 
creative mind. Hence we may at once dismiss as 
irrelevant some objections which have been urged 
against this reasoning. One of these objections is, 
that since the universe, as a system of order, is finite, 
we have no right to infer that the author of this sys- 
tem is infinite. The argument from order does not 
undertake to prove this. It simply claims that the 
order shown in the universe points unmistakably to 
intelligence as its source. The inference here is as 
direct, as valid, as the inference from the intelli- 
gence displayed in any human work. When, there- 
fore, writers like Mr. Spencer argue that the cause 
of the universe cannot be known to be intelligent 
because the reason of man, being finite, cannot com- 
prehend the infinite, they forget that human reason, 
while it can never comprehend the infinite, can com- 
prehend such manifestations of the infinite as come 
within its range. A man may infer that the au- 
thor of Hamlet was intelligent without professing 
to sound all the depths of Shakespeare's mind. 

It may be, and indeed it seems highly probable, 
that the entire visible universe, as disclosed to us 
by the farthest search of our most powerful tele- 
scopes, the system or systems that spread out before 
the bewildered eye of the astronomer as he consid- 
ers the starry heavens, are but the local product 
and temporary phase of a far greater universe which 
is itself but part of another, till even imagination 
droops ; but this does not render any less convin* 



Il8 THE THE IS TIC ARGUMENT 

cing the evidences of intelligence presented to our 
view. It may be that in these other systems there 
are manifestations of intelligence, not only unlike 
any that are presented to us, but manifestations 
which our faculties have no capacity for apprehend- 
ing ; but this would not weaken in the least such 
inferences as our finite minds might be capable of 
drawing. The whole stupendous order of that na- 
ture which we survey may be but a ripple across the 
universal and illimitable action of the mind which 
manifests itself in all things ; but while our limited 
and partial and finite comprehension can never in- 
clude all this, we are not shut up to the conclusion 
that we can draw no inference at all from the order 
and harmony which we see everywhere above us 
and around us. 

Mr. Mill would have us think that the order of 
the universe, so far as it reveals a combination of 
the invariable forces of nature to produce a special 
end, not only does not prove that the Intelligence 
that presided over this was infinite, but even affords 
convincing proof that it was limited and finite. 
"There is in nature," he says, "no reason whatever 
to suppose that either matter, or force, or any of 
their properties, were made by the Being who was 
the author of the causations by which the world is 
adapted to what we consider as its purposes ; or 
that he has power to alter any of those properties. 
It is only when we consent to entertain this nega- 
tive supposition that there arises a need for wisdom 
or contrivance in the order of the universe. The 
Deity had on this hypothesis to work out his ends 
by combining materials of a given nature and prop- 
erties. Out of these materials he had to construct 



THE ARGUMENT FROM ORDER. I 19 

a world in which his designs should be carried into 
effect, through given properties of matter and force, 
working together and fitting into each other. This 
did require skill and contrivance, and the means by 
which it is effected are often such as justly excite 
our wonder and admiration ; but exactly because it 
requires wisdom it implies limitation of force, or 
rather the two phrases express different sides of the 
same fact." ^ 

It is difficult to treat with seriousness an argu- 
ment which when analyzed will be found to be desti- 
tute of force. What it amounts to is simply this : 
that working toward results in regular and orderly 
methods is proof of limitation in a being who, if in- 
finite, could achieve results by a direct and imme- 
diate exercise of power. In other words, if every 
chicken were called into being by a creative fiat we 
might infer that the power was infinite to which such 
a phenomenon was due ; but if this power chose to 
endow the ^g'g with the potency by which in accord- 
ance with invariable law the chicken was to be pro- 
duced, we are bound to infer from such resort to an 
indirect method of production, that it was shut up 
to the employment of natural agencies, and hence 
was finite. Aside from the strange omission to note 
that all the natural agencies called into requisition 
to produce a definite result are themselves the very 
proof of the intelligence on which the argument in- 
sists, this objection fails to recognize the simple 
principle, that in producing any definite results in- 
finite power must always work under limitations, limi- 
tations not in the power, but in the method adopted 
and in the end purposed. 

1 Essays on Religion, p. 178. 



120 THE THEISTIC ARGUMENT. 

These objections, however, as I have said, have 
nothing to do with the argument which we are now 
considering. What that argument undertakes to 
prove is simply that the order of the universe had 
its origin in intelligence. On the further question 
whether that intelligence is infinite or finite, it under- 
takes no decision. True, the argument from order, 
if admitted as conclusive, must carry with it the ir- 
resistible conviction that the intelligence thus every- 
where manifested in the works of nature must be an 
intelligence far surpassing any capacity of finite 
mind to measure or search out. He would be rash 
and presumptuous, indeed, who even from the things 
that are seen would venture to fix any limit to it ; 
and when we bear in mind how small a part the 
things that are seen are of the whole universe of 
things that are unseen, the conclusion is one to 
which the reason is inevitably led ; but this conclu- 
sion, whether legitimate or not, is no part of the 
argument which we are now considering. And to 
ascertain how far this argument is valid, it is impor- 
tant for us not to confuse it with inferences, or with 
objections that are not directly connected with it. 
We are only considering the proof of intelligence. 

The order and harmony everywhere apparent in 
the universe are conceded facts. Those who refuse 
to refer them to intelligence are bound therefore to 
account for them in some other way. To say that 
they originated with chance, is an explanation so 
manifestly absurd that it need not be considered. 
To believe, as some of the ancients professed to do, 
that this universal frame had its origin in the fortui- 
tous concurrence of primordial atoms, which after 
passing through infinite combinations presented at 



THE ARGUMENT FROM ORDER. 121 

last this present world, implies a degree of credulity 
such as no religious system has ever yet exacted of 
its votaries. Supposing the ultimate molecules of 
matter to have existed from all eternity, they might, 
by chance contact, have produced from time to time 
some strange combinations ; but to suppose that a 
universe, such as science reveals to us, so real, so 
intricate, so harmonious, so stable, could have been 
called into being by the operation of blind chance, 
is a hypothesis that no man in his senses, at the 
present day, would think for a moment of maintain- 
ing. If modern science has done nothing more, it 
has at least passed a final sentence of condemnation 
upon Democritus and Epicurus. 

To account, then, for this order and harmony every- 
where so apparent in the external world, we are 
shut up to one of two hypotheses : the hypothesis of 
mind, working through the forces of nature and co- 
ordinating them into a mutual adjustment, or the hy- 
pothesis of matter endowed with inherent powers 
and potencies, and working in an endless succession 
of combination and dissolution. There is no other 
explanation possible, and in the present state of 
speculative opinion no other explanation is proposed. 
The choice lies between intelligence and blind force ; 
between reason enthroned above physical causation 
and the unconscious working of purely natural laws. 
And this brings us to the latest and most powerful 
assault that has been made upon the argument from 
order, an assault springing directly from the modes 
of scientific thinking so current at the present time. 
In this the problem, which the order of the universe 
presents to human reason, is not solved but rather 
set aside by an attempted indication of the process 



122 THE THEISTIC ARGUMENT. 

by which that order has been brought about. It is 
claimed that this order is sufficiently accounted for 
when its physical antecedents have been traced back 
to their presumed beginning. 

In view of these conclusions of modern science, to 
which reference has been already made, it is claimed 
that every law controlling the universe both of mat- 
ter and of mind follows as a necessary consequence 
from the persistence of force and from the primary 
qualities of matter. It is conceded that a generation 
ago the argument from the order of the universe, so 
lucidly presented by Baden Powell, must have been 
accepted as irrefutable. With the conception of mat- 
ter which then prevailed, the most rational explana- 
tion of this order would have been the hypothesis of 
an eternal mind. But in the light of recent physical 
discovery all this is changed, and the argument so 
long and so generally received " that that which it 
requires thought and reason to understand must it- 
self be thought and reason," must be forever aban- 
doned by reasonable men. Hitherto the objections 
to this argument have been mere guess or unwar- 
rantable assertions ; but now it is claimed they are 
no longer a matter of unverifiable opinion, but are 
sure as the most fundamental axiom of science. That 
the argument from the order of the universe will be 
henceforth inadmissible in scientific thinking cannot 
be a matter of question. Let us glance at the 
grounds for these strong assertions. 

The problem before us is to account for a univer- 
sal order existing independently of mind. If we in- 
terpret, we are told, the harmonious and mutually re- 
lated phenomena of nature only by the facts which 
science has revealed, we are driven to this conclu- 



THE ARGUMENT FROM ORDER. 123 

sion, that from the time when the process first began 
every subsequent change or event was bound to en- 
sue, else the doctrine of the persistency of force 
must be abandoned. But how did this process first 
begin. In the primeval generation of the universe 
there was probably in existence not more than one 
of the forces which we term natural laws. This was 
gravitation. It matters not, whether there was ever 
a time when gravitation, or matter as we now know 
it, did not exist, for if there was such a time there is 
every reason to conclude that the first matter owed 
its existence to law. Nor is it of any consequence 
how the law of gravitation came to be associated 
with matter, for it is overw^helmingly probable that 
if we could push our examination far enough it would 
be found to follow as a necessary deduction from 
the primary qualities of matter and force. We need 
only to start from the three data which science fur- 
nishes, — matter, force, and gravitation, and ask the 
question what next must happen } 

Science affords us strong grounds for the assump- 
tion that the matter which makes up our solar sys- 
tem primordially existed in a highly diffused form. 
It was an ethereal cloud of indefinite and immeasur- 
able magnitude. By mutual gravitation, the sub- 
stance of this cloud began to concentrate upon itself. 
It is frankly conceded, that what is termed the neb- 
ular hypothesis is not beyond dispute, and that all 
positive knowledge of the genesis of our solar sys- 
tem is still of the crudest and most uncertain char- 
acter ; still it is claimed that the theory that evolution 
in some form has been the method of the formation 
of the universe is placed beyond reasonable doubt, 
and hence, that the inferences to be drawn from it 



124 ^-^^ THEISTIC ARGUMENT. 

are as certainly true as if we were acquainted with 
each step of the vast process. '' Given," says Mr. 
Herbert Spencer, who may be selected as undoubt- 
edly the foremost representative of the view which 
we are now considering, '' a raw and widely diffused 
mass of nebulous matter, and what are the succes- 
sive changes that will take place } Mutual gravita- 
tion will approximate its atoms, but their approxima- 
tion will be opposed by atomic repulsion, the over- 
coming of which implies the evolution of heat." 
That is, the condensation of the nebula originates 
new dynamical relations among its constituent 
parts. 

" As fast as this heat partially escapes by radia- 
tion, further approximations will take place, attended 
by further evolution of heat, and so on continuously ; 
the processes not occurring separately, as here de- 
scribed, but simultaneously, uninterruptedly, and 
with increasing activity." But the previous essen- 
tial conditions remaining the same, the new relations 
now established would, of necessity, give rise to new 
laws, by which is meant, simply, the occurrence of 
similar effects under similar conditions. Hence, 
"eventually this slow movement of the atoms to- 
wards their common centre of gravity, will bring 
about phenomena of another order, 

"Arguing from the well-known laws of atomic 
combination, it will happen that, when the nebulous 
mass has reached a particular stage of condensation, 
when its internally situated atoms have approached 
to within certain distances, have generated a certain 
amount of heat, and are subject to a certain mutual 
pressure, some of them will suddenly enter into 
chemical union. Whether the binary atoms so pro- 



THE ARGUMENT FROM ORDER. 1 25 

duced will be of kinds such as we know, or whether 
they be of kinds simpler than any we know, which is 
more probable, matters not to the argument. It suf- 
fices that molecular combinations of some species 
will finally take place." 

On the process here traced is based the doctrine, 
that the self-generation of the laws of nature is a 
necessary corollary from the principle of the persist- 
ence of matter and force. For just as in the begin- 
ning of the process, the proto-binary compounds of 
matter gave rise to new relations, involving of ne- 
cessity their appropriate laws, so throughout all the 
subsequent stages of the unceasing evolution, as 
often as matter acquired a new state, or as often as 
in any of its former states it was thrown into new 
relations, laws which before were non-existent and 
impossible, became at once both possible and neces- 
sary. And since there is no reason for fixing a limit 
to the process once begun, if there be only time 
enough allowed, we arrive at last at* the marvelous 
complexity of things that we see around us. All its 
harmony and order are the product of endless modi- 
fications of the original matter and force in which 
the whole process had its origin. ** For aught that 
speculative reason can ever show to the contrary," 
says the author of "Theism," "the evolution of all 
the diverse phenomena of inorganic nature, of life and 
of mind, appears to be as necessary and as self-de- 
termined as is the being of that mysterious Some- 
thing which is Everything, the entity we must all 
believe in." -^ 

Let it be remembered that, according to this the- 
ory, human intelligence, like everything else, has 

1 " Physicus," Theism, p. 57* 



126 THE THEISTIC ARGUMENT. 

been evolved. Mind is just as much the result of 
this long process as heat or magnetism. For the 
evolution of intelligence is simply the establishment 
of more and more numerous and complex psycholog- 
ical relations. When, therefore, the question is put, 
must not the order and harmony of the external uni- 
verse be due to mind, since it requires mind to in- 
terpret and understand it ; the answer is, that if the 
mind was itself evolved from these relations existing 
in the material universe, being ever continuously 
moulded into conformity with them as the very con- 
dition of its existence, then its process of interpreta- 
tion is simply reflecting in consciousness these ex- 
ternal relations. In other words, granting that such 
orderly relations exist in the external world, whether 
with or without mind to account for them, then the 
mere fact of our conscious intelligence being able to 
recognize relations in the outer world, answering 
to those which they have themselves caused in our 
intelligence, does not warrant the conclusion that 
these external relations are caused by an intelli- 
gence similar to our own. The thought of the mind 
within, simply answers to the order of the world 
without, and both are due to precisely the same 
cause. 

Hence the final conclusion which we reach is this : 
if all the laws of the universe are self-evolved, in- 
cluding among them the laws of mind as well as the 
laws of the external world, and if human intelligence 
is simply a subjective photograph of certain of the 
relations of the external world, then nothing is more 
natural than that the correspondence between the 
two should give rise to the impression that the ex- 
ternal world instead of being itself the cause of that 



THE ARGUMENT FROM ORDER, 12/ 

conformity, should be itself the effect of some com- 
mon cause. Human intelligence being itself re- 
quired to think and act in conformity to law, con- 
founds the mere fact of action in conformity to law, 
wherever manifested in the external world, with the 
existence and action of a self-conscious intelligence. 
Reading in external nature innumerable examples of 
action in conformity with law, it draws the unwar- 
rantable conclusion that because its own conscious- 
ness reveals intelligence acting according to law, 
therefore all action according to law must proceed 
from intelligence. But it by no means follows as a 
logical conclusion, that because the phenomena of 
the external universe admit of being intelligently 
inquired into, they are therefore of necessity due to 
an intelligent cause. Hence, admitting the funda- 
mental axioms of science, the hypothesis of intelli- 
gent cause is needless to explain the varied phenom- 
ena of existence.^ 

In considering the objection to the argument from 
order here presented, I will not pause to show that 
it involves a series of assumptions of the highest 
moment, most of which have not passed from the 
region of mere hypothesis. Thus the assertion that 
mind is evolved from matter is one of which, it is 
needless to say, there has been as yet no proof pre- 
sented. But, for the sake of the present discussion, 
we may concede the general truth of the theory 
of evolution. It is not indeed a theory, but a ^act, 
certain as any that science has established, that 
creation has a history, and that this history presents 
unmistakable evidence that the universe as it now 
stands was not due to a single act done once for all, 

1 " Physicus, Theism^ p. 63. 



128 THE THEISTIC ARGUMENT. 

but that it is a work which has been continuously 
and progressively pursued through inconceivable 
epochs of time. So far as it is possible for us to 
trace back this impressive record, it presents to us 
the same story of one age succeeding another, and 
one system of relations formed out of previous sys- 
tems. And it is not less certain that these progres- 
sive changes have followed an orderly method. The 
annals of creation, whether considered in the or- 
ganic, or in the inorganic world, are inscribed on 
every page with the impressive truth that creation 
has been in accordance with law. 

But admitting all this, as we are bound to admit 
it, what conclusion follows. Because creation has 
proceeded according to law, shall we infer that in- 
telligence has been absent from it. To ascribe the 
origination of order simply to law is clearly an eva- 
sion of the real problem. For order and law in 
nature are the same thing, and law is the very 
thing to be explained. What we call the laws of 
nature are not the causes, but the expressions of 
order. Accepting the account of the origin of nat- 
ural law which Mr. Spencer gives us, laws are 
simply the results of delicate adjustments, infinitely 
but harmoniously varied. The existence of a law, 
in every case, presupposes the coexistence of several 
conditions, and of conditions that are themselves 
always related to each other in a way that itself de- 
mands explanation. Besides, laws do not act of 
themselves. It is always that which acts according 
to law which produces the result, and the nature of 
the result depends upon the number and character 
of the agents, and the manner in which they are 
disposed in relation to one another. Matter might 



THE ARGUMENT FROM ORDER. 1 29 

be endued with all its laws and yet only contusion 
and chaos result from their operation. Hence, the 
mere laws of nature furnish no rational explanation 
of the order and harmony that exist. 

All are ready to concede that creation, as its his- 
tory stands revealed to us, is a process, a process to 
which science can assign no beginning, and of which 
it is as little competent to determine the end. But 
it is a wholly erroneous assumption that we account 
for the origin of this process when we simply trace 
the method according to which that part which is 
revealed to us proceeds. This method is precisely 
the feature which we have to account for. That 
the result is arrived at through appropriate condi- 
tions, which is all the conclusion that science 
reaches when it attempts to unfold the so-called 
laws of nature, does not in the least explain what it 
was that combined these conditions so that the re- 
sult should follow. We may grant that the nebular 
theory implies the law of gravitation, and that grav- 
itation has determined the cause of cosmical evolu- 
tion ; but evidently this marvelous result could have 
followed only on the theory that the nebula origi- 
nally possessed a definite constitution ; that its con- 
stituents, whatever they may have been, were en- 
dowed with certain properties and were disposed in 
fixed relations, so that, in effect, we have at the out- 
set an order to account for just as truly as in any 
stage of the subsequent process. 

If we do not accept this view, we are thrown 
back upon the alternative of regarding the existing 
order of the universe as one special result among 
infinite possibilities of disorder, produced by the 
mutual interaction of atoms of matter through eter- 
9 



130 THE THEISTIC ARGUMENT. 

nal epochs of time. We must conceive of these 
atoms as passing through all possible combinations, 
till at last, after an infinite number of failures, they 
have fallen into a harmonious arrangement. But 
this is simply to fall back upon the solution of the 
ancient atomists. *' For verily," says the great ex- 
pounder of this theory, Lucretius, "not by design 
did the first beginnings of things station themselves 
each in its right place, guided by keen-sighted intel- 
ligence, nor did they bargain, sooth to say, what 
motions each should assume, but because many in 
number, and shifting about in many ways through- 
out the universe, they are driven and tormented by 
blows during infinite time past; after trying motions 
and unions of every kind, at length they fall into ar- 
rangements such as those out of which this our sum 
of things has been formed." ^ Moreover, this hy- 
pothesis has nothing whatever to support it in what 
we observe of the process of nature. What we find 
everywhere attested is not blind chance, but the 
reign of law. 

Dismissing as utterly untenable and irrational the 
theory of chance, the two alternatives to which we 
are shut up to account for the wondrous order and 
harmony of the universe, are the alternatives of 
mind or of matter. The theory of the persistence of 
force, which is brought forward as supplying a cause 
sufficient to account for this, if it means anything, 
means one of these two. It is either force directed 
and controlled by intelligence, or physical force 
working blindly. But when we ask, as we surely 
have a right to do, what is precisely meant by this 
mysterious and indestructible potency, which is thus 

^ [Lucretius, De Rerum Natura, book i., 1 021- 1028.] 



THE ARGUMENT FROM ORDER. 131 

represented as adequate to all the work of creation, 
we get no definite answer. " The word force," Mr. 
Lewes tells us, *'is a symbol which has many mean- 
ings. It varies in different works, and often in dif- 
ferent passages of the same work. Sometimes it 
stands for the unknowable, whose manifestations 
are the objective universe; sometimes it is the com- 
mon measure by which all phenomena are rendered 
intelligible ; • sometimes it is an imaginary entity, 
supposed to take up its habitation in substances, 
passing freely from one to the other ; sometimes a 
peculiar kind of matter, very subtle, and endowed 
with qualities wholly unlike those of ordinary mat- 
ter ; sometimes it is a simple synonym of cause 
sometimes of strength, sometimes of motion, now 
confounded with and now distinguished from en- 
ergy.'; ' 

If, indeed, by conservation of force we mean con- 
servation of actual energy, the doctrine is by no 
means universally admitted. There is a broad dis- 
tinction between the statement that the sum of 
energies remains unaltered, and that the quantity of 
force remains always the same. For example, to 
make heat efficient we must have hotter and colder 
bodies. As soon as all bodies are reduced to the 
same temperature, though the sum of energy re- 
mains the same, its efficiency or force is gone. For 
no transformation from one body to the other is 
longer possible. Now, according to very high au- 
thority, there is a tendency in the universe, from the 
constant radiation of heat, to a uniform tempera- 
ture ; in other words, the time is coming when trans- 
formation of heat will cease, or when force will be 

1 \Probletns of Life and Mind, ist Series, vol. ii., p. 307.] 



132 THE THEISTIC ARGUMENT. 

exhausted. But since all the phenomena of life are 
due to this transformation, this is the same as say- 
ing that the time is coming when the universe, as it 
now stands, will no longer exist. And if the pres- 
ent system of things must thus have a definite end- 
ing it must also have had a definite beginning. So 
the notion of an eternal rhythm of evolution and 
dissolution based on the doctrine of the persistence 
of force wholly falls to the ground. Physical sci- 
ence itself, rightly interpreted, gives no support to 
the theory. 



LECTURE V. 

THE ARGUMENT FROM DESIGN. 

I HAVE thus far aimed to show from the order and 
harmony everywhere pervading the universe, that 
it must have had its origin in mind ; for no other 
explanation will account for a result so marvelous. 
This order, to repeat what has been said before, is 
both general and special, the former showing itself 
in regularity and the latter in adjustment. Of the 
former, astronomy gives us the most perfect illustra- 
tion ; for the latter, the examples are furnished us 
in all the departments of organic life. While it may 
be urged that regularity and adjustment are, after 
all, but different aspects of the same thing, since 
the most specialized adj ustments of organic structure 
always presuppose the most general uniformities of 
physical nature, yet even then such difference exists 
between the two arguments as to warrant a separate 
treatment. The former argument infers the uni- 
verse to be an effect of mind because it is charac- 
terized by order and harmony, the latter draws the 
same inference because the parts of which the uni- 
verse is composed are so collocated and combined 
as to cooperate in the attainment of certain results. 

We now proceed to consider this second phase of 
the general argument, or, as it is commonly termed, 
the argument from design. This designation, how- 
ever, though common, is inaccurate, since the argu- 



134 ^-^^ THEISTIC ARGUMENT. 

ment is not an inference from design, but an argu- 
ment to prove design. To assume that the external 
universe furnishes proof of design, and then from 
this to reason back to a designer, is simply to beg 
the question. In the external world we have law, 
order, and arrangement, but design can have no ex- 
istence save in intelligence. What is properly meant 
by design in nature are simply certain characteris- 
tics which are held to be indications of intelligence, 
and which further imply such adaptation and fitness 
as show that the result reached was a foreseen effect. 
From this point of view the argument of design is 
also termed the argument from final causes, mean- 
ing by this the end for which anything exists. Thus 
if I form a purpose to write a book, to build a house, 
to pursue a course of study, this purpose, if realized, 
will be the end of a series of steps or actions, and, 
by a secondary signification, this end is made to sig- 
nify a purposed result. 

The phrase, "argument from final causes," now 
in common use, is also not free from objection. The 
expression "final cause" is an inheritance from the 
scholastic philosophy, and is used in senses not al- 
ways carefully discriminated. It is sometimes used 
as signifying certain aspects of order or adaptation, 
and sometimes as signifying certain aspects of design 
or intention. And in either of these senses, it may 
refer to the intrinsic, the extrinsic, or the ultimate 
end of things. Thus, viewed simply as the intrinsic 
end of what is orderly and established, the stability 
and movement of the solar system may be termed the 
final cause of the arrangement by which that result 
is secured. So sight is the final cause of the eye. 
On the other hand, final cause may mean not merely 



THE ARGUMENT FROM DESIGN. 1 35 

the end of an arrangement in itself, considered as a 
completed whole, but its relation to something else, 
or the end which it serves as a system included in 
other systems. If we admit one, we must admit the 
other, for nothing in nature stands alone ; it is a sys- 
tem composed of systems within systems. Hence 
the distinction between intrinsic and extrinsic ends 
exists, after all, not so much in the nature of the 
things themselves as in our way of looking at them. 

In either of these two senses, we may reason legit- 
imately from final causes. When we affirm the ex- 
istence of final causes as intrinsic ends, we simply 
affirm that things are systematic unities, the parts of 
which are definitely related and coordinated to a 
common result. When we affirm the existence of 
final causes as extrinsic ends, we simply affirm that 
each system is related to other systems, forming 
parts of larger systems, and adjusted to more com- 
prehensive results. In this sense, final causes are 
in things ; but when we affirm them in the sense of 
design, they are not in things, but can only exist in a 
mind. The final cause of a thing may also mean 
neither its intrinsic nor its extrinsic, but its ultimate 
end, that is, its destination independent of any of 
the relations or uses which science can trace. But 
while speculation with regard to final causes in this 
latter sense may be legitimate within certain bounds, 
it affords us little help in proof of a supreme intelli- 
gence ; for any proof must rest on what we actually 
perceive, not on what we are able to conjecture. 
Only after we have ascertained the Divine existence 
and attributes can we draw any inferences with re- 
gard to ultimate ends. 

And here two things should be observed : Firsts 



136 THE THEISTIC ARGUMENT. 

that the argument of design is not, as often rep- 
resented, a mere argument from analogy. Thus 
it is said that in this argument we infer, from the 
likeness which certain natural objects bear to artifi- 
cial objects, that there must be a likeness in their 
causes. We know that a watch can only be the 
work of an intelligent maker, and hence, from the 
wonderful adjustments in the hand or the eye, we 
conclude that they in like manner must have been 
framed by an intelligent being. But, whatever anal- 
ogy there may be between the operations of nature 
and the works of man, as part of the design argu- 
ment it is rather a means of illustration than a con- 
dition of inference. When we infer that the eye, or 
the watch, are the work of an intelligent being, there 
is an inference in either case, and an inference of 
precisely the same nature. It is as direct and as in- 
dependent in the one case as in the other. We have 
no more direct perception of the intelligence of our 
fellow beings than we have of a supreme mind. It 
is, therefore, impossible that our knowledge of 'the 
one should be dependent on our knowledge of the 
other. In both cases it depends on the immediate 
consciousness of intelligence in ourselves. Hence 
the argument of design rests directly on the charac- 
ter of the works of nature. 

In the second place, the argument of design can- 
not be regarded as resting upon an a priori or intui- 
tive basis. In other words, we cannot rank final 
causation with efficient causation as a first principle 
or axiom of thought.^ That there is in the universe 
an intelligent and wise adaptation of powers and 
laws to rational ends is not an intuitive principle, 

1 See Porter, Human Intellect, pp. 594-599. 



THE ARGUMENT FROM DESIGN. 137 

but a conclusion drawn from observation. To as- 
sume the relation of means and ends to be true of 
every event and being in the universe, is to assume 
precisely what we are undertaking to prove. The 
principle " that every being has an end " has neither 
the evidence nor the necessity of the principle ''that 
every event has a cause." While causality is a prin- 
ciple, finality is the result of an induction.^ Final- 
ity, in other words, is a law of nature, not a law of 
reason. It must be sought and established by anal- 
ysis and discussion. " The design argument," says 
Mr. Mill, "■ is not drawn from mere resemblances in 
nature to the works of human intelligence, but from 
the special character of those resemblances. The 
circumstances in which it is alleged that the world 
resembles the work of man, are not circumstances 
taken at random, but are particular instances of a 
circumstance which experience shows to have a real 
connection with an intelligent origin, the fact of con- 
spiring to an end." Hence he terms it an inductive 
argument.^ 

This confusion of opinion with regard to its mean- 
ing and scope is undoubtedly the main cause of the 
discredit which has been attached in our time to an 
argument which has been advanced and defended for 
two thousand years. In the minds of many it has 
been connected with such unintelligible or preposter- 
ous conclusions that it has been set aside as destitute 
of any logical basis. It is thus of the utmost impor- 
tance to understand clearly, at the outset, what this 
basis is. The argument of design, then, is simply 
this : that there is a certain interpretation which the 

1 Janet, Final Causes, p. 8. 

2 Three Essays^ etc., Theism, p. 170. 



138 THE THEISriC ARGUMExXT. 

facts of nature themselves call for and necessitate, 
the interpretation or explanation which attaches to 
manifest arrangement and adaptation. This explar 
nation adheres to the facts of nature, and cannot be 
separated from them. It is stamped upon these 
facts. In this sense, and in this only, is it claimed 
that design or finality is in things. It is not an ex- 
planation of nature derived from theory, but one 
forced upon the mind by nature itself. By the con- 
stitution of our minds, and by the laws of thought, 
we are forced to put this construction upon the facts 
presented. Just as we connect uniform recurrence 
with law, so we connect manifold coincidence and 
adaptation with design. 

Bacon's familiar comparison of the search for final 
causes to vestal virgins, who were consecrated to God 
and barren, has done much to discredit the argument 
of design ; but what Bacon meant was simply that 
the student of nature should not be diverted from the 
investigation of efficient causes by the suggestion of 
ends or adaptations, for the appropriate work of the 
interpreter of nature is to trace the connection of 
natural agents and laws. And in taking this position 
no one doubts that Bacon was right. For he was 
dealing with a set of inquirers who refused to recog- 
nize the physical cause of a fact as a subject of in- 
quiry on the ground that the final cause was a suf- 
ficient explanation. This was to put an end to all 
scientific progress. But the maxim which he applied 
only to the separate items of nature has been ex- 
tended since his time to the whole system of nature, 
while it is the agreement and concurrence in the 
system of the separate facts which constitutes the 
whole force of the argument. That Bacon did not 



THE ARGUMENT FROM DESIGN. I 39 

deny that nature, in this sense, is penetrated and 
ilkimined by the evidence of design is proved clearly 
enough by his own words : " For while the mind of 
man looketh upon second causes scattered, it may 
sometimes rest in them and go no further, but when 
it beholdeth the chain of them confederate and 
linked together, it must needs fly to Providence and 
Deity." 1 

The definition here given of the argument of de- 
sign at once removes one of the most common objec- 
tions to it. Design, it is said, is a human concep- 
tion, the essential offspring of a mode of thinking 
which belongs to a limited intelligence. What right 
have we to attribute this to an infinite being; what 
ground have we for connecting this characteristic 
with the suprenie intelligence t This objection, 
though urged by writers in our own time (for exam- 
ple, Lewes), is by no means new. Even Descartes, 
who sought to base an argument for the existence of 
God upon innate ideas, rejected the argument of 
design on the ground that we must know God be- 
fore we can attribute design to him. But, if we 
keep clearly in our minds the principle already laid 
down, that design is an explanation which adheres 
to the facts of nature as they are manifest to us, this 
objection is stripped of all its force. If, by the con- 
stitution of our minds we are compelled to put a 
certain construction upon certain facts, no insolu- 
ble problem which lies beyond can hold us back 
from the plain and irresistible inference. We do 
not need to know the infinite to argue from facts. 
We start from the finite, not from the infinite, side 
of the problem ; we assume no knowledge of an infi- 
nite mind, but simply argue towards it. 

1 {Essays: '* Of Atheism."] 



140 THE THEISTIC ARGUMENT. 

The question which we are discussing is not 
whether nature had an infinite designer, but whether 
we find in nature evidences of design. " The idea 
of infinity," as Dr. Mozley truly remarks, "combines 
two great and starthng opposites : that of being the 
most rehgious, and that of being the most skeptical 
idea of the human mind. On the one hand, it is the 
foundation of all that is transcendental and aspir- 
ing in human prospects ; on the other hand, it is 
the destruction of it all." ^ Thus, on the one side, 
it has been the favorite idea of religious minds, while 
on the other it is the great undoer, the great re- 
verser, of all the religious verdicts of reason. Infin- 
ity thus becomes nature's great recantation, whereby 
she gives up what she held, and acknowledges her- 
self mistaken and deceived. But into this unfath- 
omable deep we are not required to plunge. We 
are not determining the scope of the designing mind 
which nature shows. For it is evident that, if we 
cannot argue up to a designing mind till we have 
first argued down from one ; if we cannot interpret 
the facts of nature till we have explained the mind 
which formed nature, then the argument of design 
would have no validity until it had ceased to have 
any value. 

If the principle of final causes were, as has been 
claimed by some, an a priori principle, we should 
apply it at once to all phenomena, but this is not 
the case. In a great number of instances phenom- 
ena have no end that we can recognize, or do not 
at once suggest the notion of an end, while in a 
multitude of other cases this notion is suggested to 
the mind of the observer with irresistible force. We 

1 [Essays, etc., vol. ii., p. 381.] 



THE ARGUMENT FROM DESIGN. 14I 

have, then, to ask the question, what is it that 
makes this difference, what is it that warrants us 
in recognizing this characteristic in some cases and 
not in others. We see everywhere in nature not 
only effects but a harmony and coincidence of ef- 
fects, and reason refuses to admit that this coinci- 
dence itself can have followed without a cause. The 
mind not only requires a cause to explain phe- 
nomena, but a cause to explain the order of phenom- 
ena. Yet, in this combination simply, we have no 
suggestion of finality. For example, the geomet- 
rical shapes which minerals assume in crystallizing 
do not directly suggest the notion of design. It is 
a phenomenon that seems only related to the past. 
So far as our observation reaches it is a phenom- 
enon absolutely finished, though doubtless, in the 
strict sense, this is true of none of nature's works. 

On the other hand, when a combination of phe- 
nomena has, besides, the evident character of having 
been determined to a future phenomenon, no matter 
whether near or remote, reason demands an explana- 
tion not only of the order or arrangement but equally 
of that relation to a future effect which has given it 
its determinate form. But this correlation cannot 
be explained unless the resulting phenomenon, in 
some sense, preexisted in the cause ; and when the 
combination, to become intelligible, is thus referred, 
at the same time, to its anterior cause, and to its 
future effect, we have not simply a relation of cause 
and effect, but a relation of means to end. When a 
great number of phenomena, very different in every 
other point of view, yet present one common and 
constant circumstance, this circumstance may be 
given as the cause. "We are warranted," says Mr. 



142 THE THEISTIC ARGUMENT. 

Mill, *'by the canons of induction in concluding that 
what brought all these elements together was some 
cause common to them all."^ Hence it follows that 
the criterion of final cause is the determination of 
the present with reference to the future. In other 
words, "the agreement of certain phenomena, bound 
together with a future phenomenon, implies a cause 
in which that future phenomenon is ideally repre- 
sented." 2 

Let us now glance at some of the more obvious 
facts in nature which seem to illustrate this deter- 
mination of phenomena with reference to a definite 
and future end. The operations of nature in which 
the character of finality is most strikingly displayed 
are of two kinds : functions and instincts. The 
former are shown .in the interior operation of organs, 
and the latter in their exterior actions. In the 
former that which is most striking is the structure, 
while in the latter it is the operation. These illus- 
trations, for the most part, are so obvious, and have 
been so frequently employed, that it will be impos- 
sible to treat this part of my subject without making 
free use of familiar facts. 

Of all instances of apparent adaptation in the 
structure of the organ, the most striking is the 
structure of the eye in its relation to the act of 
vision. For this the primary condition is the exist- 
ence of a nerve sensible to light. But a nerve sim- 
ply sensible to light would serve only to distinguish 
light from darkness ; to discriminate between ob- 
jects an optical apparatus is required, and it is in the 
construction of this apparatus that the nice adjust- 
ment of means to ends is most clearly manifested. 

1 \Three Essays, etc., Theism, p. 171.] 

2 Janet, Final Causes, p. 55. 



THE ARGUMENT FROM DESIGN. 1 43 

A great German physiologist, Miiller, remarks 
upon this point : " In order that the hght may pro- 
ject upon the retina the image of the objects from 
which it proceeds, that which comes from certain 
definite parts of the external bodies, whether imme- 
diately or by reflection, must not put in action more 
than corresponding parts of the retina, a thing which 
recognizes certain physical conditions. The light 
which emanates from a luminous body diffuses itself 
by radiating in all directions when it meets no ob- 
stacle to its passage ; a luminous point will there- 
fore lighten a whole surface, not a single point of 
that surface. If the surface which receives the light 
radiating from a point is the united surface of the 
retina, the light of that point causes the sensation 
of light in the whole, and not merely in a part of 
the nervous membrane." There then would be no 
vision, in the proper sense of the word, but only the 
sensation of light. " Consequently, in order that 
the external light may produce in the eye an image 
corresponding to the bodies, it is indispensable that 
there should be arrangements to cause the light 
given forth from certain points to act on isolated 
parts of the retina arranged in the same order, and 
which prevent one point of that membrane from 
being illuminated at once by several points of the 
external world." ^ 

In order to attain the result here desired, two dif- 
ferent systems have been employed. The first of 
these, which are called composite eyes, is seen in 
the case of insects. The method here adopted con- 
sists in placing before the retina, and perpendicular 
to it, an innumerable quantity of transparent cones 

1 Janet, p. 58. 



144 ^^^ THEISTIC ARGUMENT. 

which allow only the light which follows the direc- 
tion of their axis to reach the nervous membrane, 
while all which strikes obliquely is absorbed by the 
pigment which lines their walls. Here nature pro- 
ceeds precisely like the chemist in his laboratory, 
when, in order to study a phenomenon, he seeks first 
to isolate it, that surrounding circumstances may not 
disturb his experiment. This combination of trans- 
parent cones with absorbing ^N2i\\s, allowing the light 
to come in one direction, and absorbing it in every 
other, however it may be explained, is evidently the 
same process. But what makes the contrivance of 
the eye vastly more marvelous than the precaution 
of the chemist, is the amazing quantity of combina- 
tions which the system requires, amounting to 12,000 
or even 20,000 cones in a single eye, to which must 
exactly correspond in the cornea as many little geo- 
metrical divisions without which the result intended 
would not follow. Can such wonderful contrivances 
fail to suggest design } 

But more striking even than this is the structure 
of the human eye. With insects the method con- 
sists in excluding the rays which would prevent the 
effect from being produced. With man the same 
result is obtained with more precision, and greater 
intensity of effect, by concentrating upon one point 
the divergent rays which emanate from another. 
The human eye is, in fact, a camera, and is con- 
structed on the principle of the instrument which 
photography has rendered so familiar. We have a 
solid membrane, enclosing the globe of the eye, 
made transparent at one point, this transparent part 
corresponding exactly with the opening of the orbit. 
Behind this transparent opening are placed con- 



THE ARGUMENT FROM DESIGN. 145 

vergent media to unite the luminous rays. And 
lastly, in the very axis of the transparent cornea, 
and of the crystalline lens, is placed the retina 
which receives the image of the object. Nor is this 
all ; but the degree of curvature of the crystalline 
lens is always exactly adapted to the medium in 
which the animal is called to live, whether it be air 
or water, and the eye possesses a faculty of accom- 
modation, by which it is enabled to see with equal 
distinctness objects placed at different distances. 
And still another remarkable property of the eye is 
its achromatic power, which, if not perfect, is yet 
sufficient for practical use. 

While considering this complicated internal struc- 
ture of the human eye, the part which the external 
organs play should not be overlooked. The eye is 
protected from injury by a lid, which is further pro- 
vided with lashes. For a long time it was supposed 
that these organs served simply to prevent injurious 
substances from entering the eye, but recent re- 
search has shown that they have another and far 
more delicate function ; that is, that they have the 
power of partially arresting what are termed the 
ultra-violet rays, or the luminous rays which lie be- 
yond the violet in the solar spectrum, and which act 
in a very injurious manner upon the retina. Precise 
experiments have also shown that these protecting 
media have also the power of arresting almost the 
whole of the obscure radiating heat which always 
accompanies light in considerable proportion, and 
which might, if allowed to strike upon the retina, 
affect its very delicate tissue. But, in consequence 
of this arrest, only those rays are transmitted which 
are required for producing vision. Here we have 

lO 



146 THE THEISTIC ARGUMENT, 

an arrangement which is no part of the organic 
structure of the eye itself, but which is externally 
combined with it, simply that the eye may be pro- 
tected in the work it has to perform. We have the 
adjustment of one organ to another and wholly dis- 
tinct organ. 

Now I am well aware that the human eye has 
been the object of severe criticism, and that some 
physicists have not hesitated to declare that it is by 
no means the perfect and admirable organ that has 
been represented. Some have complained of the 
uselessness of the crystalline humor, since the blind 
operated on for cataract, can do without it. Helm- 
holtz has shown, to his own satisfaction, that consid- 
ered as a mere instrument, the eye has imperfections 
and defects ; while a French writer declares that 
there is no maker of optical instruments who could 
not make a better one than Nature has furnished 
to man. But we are not discussing the question 
whether the eye is an absolutely perfect instrument, 
nor are we called on here to pronounce an opinion 
as to whether a German or a French professor could 
make a better. The only question before us is 
whether the eye, as it stands, shows the character- 
istics of design. Placing before us its delicate and 
complicated structure, its exact adjustments, the 
careful manner in which it is protected in the per- 
formance of its important functions, shall we say 
that it was intelligently planned with reference to 
a definite end, or shall we explain it from the blind 
operation of mere physical causes 1 

Another striking class of facts on which the argu- 
ment of design is based is that illustrated in the 
instincts of the lower animals. Little as we know 



THE ARGUMENT FROM DESIGN. 1 47 

of the real nature of instinctive acts in distinction 
from those which we term intelHgent or rational, 
this much seems certain, that they are not executed 
with any foresight on the part of the animal of the 
result attained, and are not acts of judgment derived 
from any previous experience. Facts without num- 
ber in proof of this might be supplied from the most 
cursory observation. The young bee is hardly able 
to move its wings when it leaves the hive in search 
of flowers, and begins to labor not to supply its own 
immediate wants, but for a common and future good. 
The spider has not so much as seen the insects 
which will serve for its food when it hastens to lay 
a snare for them by weaving its curious web. The 
spinning machinery which is set up in its body is 
not more accurately adjusted to the secretion of 
which its web is formed, than is its instinct directed 
to the construction of the web, and to the selection 
of suitable places for the capture of its prey. Each 
step it takes is adapted to a determinate result. 
And this determination appears more striking as we 
descend the scale of nature, and as the parents are 
more released from personal care of their offspring. 
All creatures are under a like impulse to provide for 
the nourishing of their young, but while animals dis- 
charge only a purely physical function in giving 
suck, birds have their nests to build, and after hatch- 
ing their young, must gather food adapted to the 
period of growth, while insects go much farther, and 
in some instances, as with bees, are charged with 
the selection of nourishment which has the power 
of producing organic changes in the young, so that 
certain selected individuals can be made the queens 
of future hives. Here we have a vast series of ad- 



148 THE THEISTIC ARGUMENT. 

justments, not only between the bodily organs and 
instincts of the individual, but between the instincts 
of animals and those forces of surrounding nature 
which are related to them. The foresight is not in 
the animals themselves. They simply walk in a path 
which has been marked for them. We have, in all 
this, the criterion of finality, the determination of 
the present by the future. Nor is this evidence any 
less striking if we allow that instinct in the higher 
animals is often coupled with intelligence, and that 
it may be modified by experience, or by hereditary 
transmission.^ 

A consideration of these instances, which might 
be multiplied without end, will now enable us to 
recognize more clearly the truth of the principle 
that has been already asserted, that the argument 
of design is simply an explanation or interpretation 
of facts. The general conclusion of order belongs 
to the category of mental inferences, but each par- 
ticular instance of purpose on which this general in- 
ference is based, is not a mental inference but a 
physical fact. Of nothing can we say that we see 
its ultimate purpose, but the immediate purpose lies 
directly before our eyes, and is all with which we 
have to do. The function of an organ is a matter 
of purely physical investigation, but this function is 
not merely what it does, but what its construction 
enables it to do." The idea of function cannot be 
separated from the idea of purpose. The function 
of an organ is its purpose, and the adjustment of its 
various parts as well as of its complex whole to that 
purpose is as much a fact as any other phenomenon 
of which science can take note. It is, therefore, a 

^ Flint, Theism^ p. 383. 



THE ARGUMENT FROM DESIGN. 1 49 

manifest misunderstanding of the truth to assert 
that the idea of purpose belongs, not to science, but 
to the domain of metaphysics and theology.^ 

There is no doubt a sense, and an important 
sense, in which all science rests at last on meta- 
physical conceptions. Yet the idea of purpose and 
adjustment is by no means so metaphysical as other 
ideas which are not only freely adopted into physical 
science, but are even, in some instances, made its 
fundamental postulates. The relation of a given 
structure to its function or end is certainly a physi- 
cal fact far more simple, direct, and unmistakable, 
than the relation of the same structure to a corre- 
sponding part in a wholly different animal on which 
the whole doctrine of homologies is based. Classi- 
fication, on which all science is founded, is simply 
an arrangement of facts in an ideal order, or in con- 
formity to certain laws of thought. But mere phys- 
ical facts can have no such close relation to an 
ideal order, as the organs of an animal have to the 
precise function which they are meant to discharge 
in the animal economy. The marvelous adjust- 
ment, then, which we have presented in the natural 
world is simply a question of fact. It is a fact to 
be ascertained and recognized in each particular 
case, and the qaiestion of its existence has nothing 
to do with the question of any larger or ultimate 
purpose. 

Before leaving this part of our discussion, it is 
important to observe that these numberless facts 
which illustrate contrivance or design in nature not 
only do not conflict with what has been asserted, 
in a previous lecture, of the order and harmony 

1 Duke of Argyle, Reign of Law, p. 86. 



150 THE THE IS TIC ARGUMENT. 

everywhere displayed in the physical universe, but, 
on the other hand, only serve to render it more 
striking. For the necessity of contrivance is a di- 
rect result of the immutability of natural forces. 
These forces must always be conformed to and 
obeyed, and therefore, when they cannot directly 
serve a given purpose, they can only be made to do 
so by combination and contrivance. Hence we may 
lay it down as an evident principle that when a 
universe is governed by constant and invariable 
laws contrivance will follow by a logical necessity. 
Instead, therefore, of suggesting any unworthy con- 
ception of the universe, or of the intelligence that 
everywhere manifests itself through the universe, 
this adaptation of means to ends, or contrivance for 
the accomplishment of purpose, is inseparably bound 
up with the conception of the universe as it exists. 
Even had we no facts to prove it, we might infer 
contrivance as a consequence of the inflexible de- 
mands of law. 

And, as we follow out and understand more 
thoroughly each instance of contrivance, this fea- 
ture will be more distinctly recognized. Nowhere 
is it more strikingly displayed than in the way in 
which nature accomplishes that in which man has 
always failed — the navigation of the air. This point 
has received such apt and beautiful illustration from 
the Duke of Argyle that I cannot do better than 
borrow the substance of his reasoning. 

Among the great mysteries of nature has always 
been reckoned the flight of birds. It seemed a vio- 
lation of one of the most familiar and ever-present 
forces of nature. How, in defiance of the known 
effects of gravity, could heavy bodies float them- 



THE ARGUMENT FROM DESIGN. 151 

selves in thin air, or sweep at will, in headlong 
plunge, with movements more easy, more rapid, 
more certain, than could be executed by animals 
upon the solid eartli ? Well did Solomon say of 
"the way of an eagle in the air," that " he knew it 
not." Anything more beautiful and more striking 
is not presented to us in the realm of organic life. 
Yet, when we come to study and understand it, we 
find it simply an illustration of the way in which 
contrivance has bent to its purposes the most rigid 
and universal of laws. 

In the first place, we have to note that the force 
which seems so adverse, the force of gravitation, is 
the very thing which renders the flight of birds pos- 
sible. Birds do not fly because they are lighter than 
air, but because they are heavier. Were they lighter 
they might float like a balloon, but they could not 
fly. What makes it impossible to direct the course 
of a balloon, what causes it to drift helplessly in the 
upper space, is the simple fact that it possesses no 
active force which enables it to resist the varying 
currents in which it is immersed. It is part of the 
atmosphere, and must go with the wind that blow- 
eth where it listeth. But the bird, being always 
greatly heavier than the air, is endowed with a force 
which supplies momentum, and therefore is capable 
of overcoming any lower force, and even heavy 
gales of wind. Gravitation is, therefore, an essential 
element in the flight of birds; and hence the heavy 
birds are always the most vigorous on the wing, and 
can wrestle victoriously with the rudest blasts. It 
is because the law of gravity is always acting that 
the eagle swoops from his mountain nest, and the 
wild goose wings his rapid flight across a continent 
in search of his winter home. 



152 THE THEISTIC ARGUMENT. 

But, coupled with this, is another principle which, 
at first sight, would seem, like gravity, only an im- 
pediment to flight. This is the resisting force of the 
atmosphere, in which the requisite balance to the 
force of gravity is supplied. Now that the force of 
air should be made effectual for this purpose, it must 
be used under peculiar conditions. The force of air 
is a force acting in all directions, and if it can pre- 
vent a body from falling it can also prevent it from 
advancing. Hence it must be called into action in 
a direction as much as possible opposed to the force 
of gravity, and as little as possible in any other. 
These conditions are met by the great breadth of 
surface presented perpendicularly by the bird's ex- 
panded wing, and by the narrow line presented hori- 
zontally. But mere pressure of air is not enough. 
More must be invoked to accomplish flight, and that 
is the air's immense elasticity. To enable a crea- 
ture heavier than the air to support itself against 
the force of gravity, it must be able to strike down- 
ward with such force as to cause a corresponding 
rebound. These conditions are all met in the enor- 
mous vigor of the muscles which move the wings of 
birds. In many birds the pulsations of the wing 
are so rapid as utterly to defy any attempt to count 
them. 

Without pausing to dwell on the obvious adapta- 
tion of the structure of the wings to the work they 
have to do, we pass to another arrangement which 
shows in a manner, if possible more striking still, 
how a difliculty opposed by natural laws is over- 
come. It is plain that if a bird is to support itself 
by the downward stroke of its wings upon the air, 
it must lift the wings again, and that each upward 



THE ARGUMENT FROM DESIGN. 1 53 

Stroke is in clanger of neutralizing the opposite. It 
must be made with equal velocity and must hence 
produce equal resistance. If this difficulty were not 
overcome flight would still be impossible. But by 
two contrivances, it is evaded. One is that the 
upper surface of the wing is made convex, so that 
the air escapes readily on all sides, and compara- 
tively little resistance is produced, and the other 
consists in the fact that the feathers of the wing are 
made to tmderlap, so that in the downward stroke 
they are closed, while in the upward they are separ- 
ated, the air rushing freely between them at every 
point. 

But rapid blows thus struck against the air might 
enable the bird simply to lift itself straight up. The 
power of forward motion is given by the direction 
in which all the wing feathers are set, and by the 
structure given to each individual feather. The wing 
feathers are all set in a rigid frame, and in a direc- 
tion opposite to that in which the bird is meant to 
move, and each feather while rigid at its base is 
extremely flexible and elastic at the end. In conse- 
quence of this disposition of the parts, the air which 
is struck and compressed in the hollow of the wing, 
being unable to escape through the wing, owing to 
the closing upwards of the feathers, and unable to 
escape forwards on account of the rigidity of the 
frame and of the quills in that direction, is com- 
pelled to pass out behind. In thus escaping back- 
wards it lifts by its force the elastic ends of the 
feathers, and thus, in obedience to the law of action 
and reaction, communicates along the entire edge of 
both wings a corresponding push forwards to the 
body of the bird. By this elaborate contrivance the 



154 '^^^ THE IS TIC ARGUMENT. 

same volume of air that yields pressure enough to 
sustain the bird against the force of gravity commu- 
nicates a forward motion. The bird has simply to 
repeat its perpendicular blows, and as a direct con- 
sequence of this peculiar structure of its wings, the 
same blow supports and propels it Thus it appears 
that gravity supplies birds with an internal force 
which, acting through nicely adjusted instruments 
upon the external force of air, is the explanation of 
their wondrous evolutions. Could we ask for a more 
convincing proof that it is the very immutability of 
law that renders contrivance a necessity } 

But while the argument of design may rest on 
this broad basis of undisputed fact, there are objec- 
tions to it, the most formidable of which also appeal 
to facts, and which require candid consideration at 
our hands. Many objections that have been urged 
against contrivance, or finality, have been already 
disposed of by the careful limitation of the argu- 
ment on which we have already insisted. One who 
defends this argument at the present day is by no 
means called upon to defend all the ill-grounded and 
preposterous applications that have been made of it. 
That the study of final causes is not opposed to the 
study of physical causes, and that in the investiga- 
tion of final causes we do not assume to gather the 
ultimate purposes of the Supreme Intelligence, has 
been already shown. To borrow on this latter point 
an illustration from Robert Boyle : " A peasant, en- 
tering the garden of a famous mathematician and 
seeing there a curious astronomical instrument, 
would, no doubt, be guilty of great presumption 
should he believe himself capable of comprehending 
all the ends for which it had been constructed ; but 



THE ARGUMENT FROM DESIGN. 1 55 

if he sees on it a plate and index casting a shadow 
of the sun, he might infer that one part of its pur- 
pose was to mark the hours." 

An abuse of final causes which long prevailed con- 
sisted in rejecting facts on the ground of their in- 
consistency with some final cause supposed to be 
ascertained. Thus, in the last century, the exist- 
ence of double stars was denied by a celebrated 
astronomer, on the ground that one luminous body 
did not need another revolving round it. So the 
theory that the earth was a mere satellite of the sun 
had, for a long time, to contend with the notion that 
man was the final cause of the creation, and was, 
therefore, entitled to a central position in the uni- 
verse. Final causes have at times been used to 
account for phenomena that had no existence. Even 
Fenelon maintained that the moon was created to 
give the earth light in the absence of the sun, for- 
getting that we are often deprived of the light of 
both. Some applications of the doctrine are almost 
too absurd for mention. Thus the author of " Paul 
and Virginia" asserted that dogs were usually of 
two opposite colors, light and dark, that they might 
be distinguished from the furniture of a room, and 
that a melon had been divided into sections by nat- 
ure to adapt it to family eating. Voltaire did not go 
beyond this when he affirmed, '* Noses are made to 
bear spectacles ; let us wear them." 

But, leaving these objections, which spring from 
misconceptions or misapplications of the argument, 
I pass to consider one that is very old, and that 
touches the very centre of the problem. The the- 
ory of final causes, it is claimed, inverts the order 
of the facts by taking the effect for the cause. The 



156 THE THE IS TIC ARGUMENT 

eye sees, not because it was made for sight, but 
because it is capable of seeing ; the bird flies, not 
because he was made for flight, but because he is 
so made that he can fly. For the most forcible ex- 
pression of this doctrine we may turn to the great 
Roman poet, whose theory coincides so precisely 
with some of the currents of modern thought : — 

"But before all, be on your guard against too 
common an error : believe not that the shining orb 
of our eyes has only been created to procure for us 
the sight of objects ; that these legs and these mov- 
able thighs have only been reared on the basis of 
the feet to give greater extent to our paces ; that 
the arms, in fine, have only been formed of solid 
muscles, and terminated by the right and left hands, 
to be the ministers of our wants and of our pres- 
ervation. By such interpretations, the respective 
order of effects and causes has been reversed. Our 
members have not been made for our use, but we 
have made use of them because we have found them 
made." 1 

But the objection here urged, which has been more 
accurately stated by Spinoza, is the very problem here 
at issue. For if there are final causes, the effect is 
no longer merely an effect, it is at the same time a 
cause. The question, whether there are not effects 
which are at the same time causes, is the point on 
which the whole discussion hinges. Or rather, to 
speak with entire accuracy, it is not the effect itself 
which is the cause, but the idea of the effect. The 
objection would, therefore, hold only against the 
theory of an unconscious finality. But if, by final- 
ity, we mean an intelligent foresight of the end, the 

1 Lucretius, Nature of Things, b. iv. 822 : (Janet, p. 200.) 



THE ARGUMENT FROM DESIGN. 1 57 

objection has no force. For in this sense there is no 
contradiction in the assertion that an effect may be 
a cause. But, still further, this objection does not 
touch the real point at issue. If we assume the ex- 
istence of the eye, no one denies that sight is the 
necessary result. But how came the eye itself, with 
all its complex adjustments, to exist .? The harmony 
between the internal and the external conditions 
once established, and the effect follows as a thing 
of course ; but the problem how that harmony was 
first brought about is in no way solved by the asser- 
tion that man sees simply because he has eyes given 
him. 

A far more formidable objection to the argument 
of design is drawn from the vast armory from which 
the arguments in support of it are furnished, that 
is from the facts of nature. If the generality of 
facts support the law, it cannot be denied that the 
apparent exceptions are also numerous and striking. 
The theory rests on the adaptation of organ to func- 
tion, but in many instances this adaptation cannot be 
made out. Numerous cases might be cited among 
the lower animals where the same organ performs 
at the same time wholly different functions. In the 
hydra, the animal may be turned inside out like a 
glove, and the exterior surface will then perform the 
functions of digestion. In the animal kingdom, two 
distinct organs, in the same individual, may simul- 
taneously perform the same function. Thus the air- 
bladder found in certain fishes, originally constructed 
to aid in floating, may be converted into an appa- 
ratus for treathing. The tail, a nullity for man, 
fulfills the office of a fifth hand for monkeys, and 
serves as a leg to the kangaroo. An organ is not. 



158 THE THEISTIC ARGUMENT. 

therefore, always characterized by its use, and we 
are compelled to admit that we cannot trace in na- 
ture an absolute and necessary correlative between 
organ and function.^ 

There are, also, organs appealed to against final 
causes that seem to have no function. These seem- 
ingly useless organs are of two kinds, complete or 
rudimentary. With the advance of science the for- 
mer class are continually becoming less. It would 
be presumption to say that an organ has no use be- 
cause its use has not been discovered. An organ, 
like the spleen, may be of use, without being essen- 
tial to existence. On this point Mr. Darwin re- 
marks, with his habitual caution : *' We are much too 
ignorant regarding the whole economy of any one 
organic being to say what slight modifications would 
be of importance or not." ^ As he proceeds to show, 
even characteristics in an animal apparently so su- 
perficial as color may be of essential use, and, if this 
be true, we can hardly affirm positively of any organ 
that it serves no purpose. Since the law of the 
utility of organs and of their adaptation finds suffi- 
cient verification in such a vast multitude of cases, 
it seems far more reasonable to suppose that the 
apparent exceptions spring from our ignorance rather 
than from any failure of the principle. For a long 
time there were apparent exceptions in some of the 
heavenly bodies to Nature's law, yet when analyzed 
they have only furnished a new verification of it. 

But when we pass from complete organs to rudi- 
mentary organs the case is different. Here we en- 
counter a real difficulty, which cannot be removed 

1 See Janet, p. 223. 

^ \Origiii of Species, c. vi. (Am. ed., p. 190.)] 



THE ARGUMENT FROM DESIGN. 1 59 

by appealing to human ignorance. Thus the woman 
bears on her bosom the organs destined to support 
her child. In man they exist, but in a rudimentary 
state, and serve no useful purpose. Horses can 
move their skin, and thus drive away the flies that 
trouble them. Man has the muscle with which this 
movement is accomplished, but he has no power to 
contract it voluntarily. The marsupials, such as 
the kangaroos, are furnished with a pouch, in which 
their young are carried during the period of lactation. 
Man bears the traces of the same arrangement in 
the processes of the pubis, and the pyramidal mus- 
cles, but they are manifestly without use. He has 
in the calf of his leg a long slender muscle, inca- 
pable of energetic action, which in the tiger, the 
panther, and the leopard, explains the prodigious 
leaps with which they pounce upon their prey. The 
human intestine has an appendix, represented by a 
large fold in the herbivorous animals, which in man 
serves no purpose of digestion, yet may become a 
source of danger and even of death. He has an 
organ not only without use but positively detri- 
mental to him.i 

The existence of such useless rudimentary organs 
can, however, be accounted for in two ways : on the 
theory of the unity of type, or on the theory of the 
atrophy of organs by disuse. In the first, we can 
easily see that the type remaining the same, nature, 
whether by amplifying it, or inverting it, or chang- 
ing its proportions, may adapt it to various circum- 
stances, and that the organs thus rendered useless 
survive only as a souvenir of the original plan. Or, 
adopting the second, if the organs have ceased to be 

1 See Janet, p. 228. 



l60 THE THE IS TIC ARGUMENT 

of service, and thus have been reduced to a mini- 
mum, it does not follow that they cannot have been 
of use at some former time. But neither of these 
two explanations contradicts in the least the theory 
of finality. It is by no means implied in this theory 
that plan should be subordinated to use ; and nothing 
conforms more exactly to it than the gradual disap- 
pearance of useless organs. " Those who maintain 
final causes are not bound to maintain that they 
must always prevail over efficient causes. Nature 
is not bound to conform itself, in all things, to the 
utility of living beings, but the organization must 
be considered as a mean taken between the interest 
of the organized being and the general laws that 
render his structure possible." ^ 

" At first sight," says the Duke of Argyle, " it may ap- 
pear as if there were facts not to be reconciled with the 
supremacy of purpose, — at first sight, but at first sight 
only. For as we look at them and wonder at them, and 
set ourselves to discover how many of a like nature can 
be found, our eye catches sight of an order which has not 
been at first perceived. Exceptions to our narrow rule, 
such as we might have laid down and followed for our- 
selves, they are now seen to be in strict subordination to 
a larger rule which it would never have entered into our 
imagination to conceive. These useless members, these 
rudimentary or aborted limbs which puzzle us so much, 
are parts of a universal plan. On this plan the bony 
skeletons of all living animals have been put together. 
The forces which have been combined for the moulding 
of organic forms have been so combined as to mould 
them after certain types or patterns. And when compar- 
ative anatomy has revealed this fact as affecting all the 
animals of the existing world, another branch of the same 

1 Janet, p. 234. 



THE ARGUMENT FROM DESIGN. l6l 

science comes in to confirm the generalization, and extend 
it over the innumerable creatures which have existed and 
have passed away. This one plan of organic life has 
never been departed from since time began. 

" When we have grasped this great fact, all the lesser 
facts which are subordinate to it assume a new signifi- 
cance. In the first place, a plan of this kind is in itself 
a purpose. An order so vast as this, including within 
itself such variety of detail, and maintained through such 
periods of time, implies combination and adjustment 
founded upon, and carrying into effect, one vast concep- 
tion. It is only as an order of thought that the doctrine 
of animal homologies is intelligible at all. It is a men- 
tal order, and can only be mentally perceived. For what 
do we mean when we say that this bone in one kind of 
animal corresponds to such another bone in another kind 
of animal ? Corresponds in what sense ? Not in the 
method of using it, for very often limbs, which are homo- 
logically the same, are put to the most diverse and oppo- 
site uses. To what standard, then, are we referring when 
we say that such and such two limbs are homologically 
the same ? It is to the standard of an ideal order, a 
plan, a type, a pattern mentally conceived." ■^ 

Two distinct ideas are, in fact, interv^^oven in or- 
ganic life, — the ideas of homology in structure and 
of analogy in use. One represents unity of design, 
the other variety of function, and the two constantly 
modify each other. 

I pass to another objection urged against the ar- 
gument of design, the objection on which altogether 
most stress is laid at the present time, an objection 
which, in the opinion of not a few, has removed from 
nature all evidence of a final cause. I refer to the 
doctrine which derives all the wonderful adaptations 

1 Reign of Law ^ p. 206. 
II 



1 62 THE THE IS TIC ARGUMENT. 

of the physical universe, simply from antecedent 
conditions of existence. The objection already con- 
sidered, that in the argument of design the effect is 
put for the cause, implies that any given organism 
is simply an effect resulting from certain given 
causes, and that those causes are all contained in 
the series of successive steps by which the organism 
has come into existence. This objection in itself is 
not new, but may be traced back as far as Aristotle ; 
but it has recently derived great additional force 
from the new illustration it has received at the hands 
of some eminent observers of the facts of nature. 
According to this theory, design is no longer needed 
to connect organs with the function they discharge ; 
but another principle, drawn from nature itself, af- 
fords an adequate explanation. This is the principle 
of Mr. Darwin which has become familiar in the 
phrase, " survival of the fittest." 

It is an error to speak of Mr. Darwin as the orig- 
inator of the theory of natural selection. It was 
advocated in a general form by many before his 
time. But the great English naturalist was the first 
who attempted to trace with precision the steps by 
which the process was carried on, and from his un- 
rivaled powers of observation the theory was set 
forth with a wealth of illustration that gave it alto- 
gether a new character. As presented by him, the 
theory did not pretend to account for the origin of 
sensation, or of animal or vegetable life. Assum- 
ing the existence of some of the lowest forms of 
organic life, in which are found no complex adapta- 
tions, and no traces of contrivance, and assuming, 
as was not unreasonable, that many small variations 
from those simple types would be thrown out in all 



THE ARGUMENT FROM DESIGN. 1 63 

directions, which might be transmitted by inherit- 
ance, some of which would be advantageous to the 
creature in its struggle for existence and others dis- 
advantageous, the former would tend to survive, 
while, on the other hand, the latter would tend to 
perish. And thus, by a slow but constant modifi- 
cation of the type, adapting itself to different condi- 
tions of existence, it might develop into all the va- 
rieties that now present themselves.^ 

In thus explaining the evolution of higher from 
lower forms of life, Mr. Darwin appeals to physical 
agencies that are visibly in action. Whether spe- 
cies are changing or not at the present cannot, in- 
deed, be determined by observation ; but the entire 
period during which man has watched the operations 
of nature is but an infinitesimal portion of the vast 
epoch that has elapsed since this process of nat- 
ural selection began. Yet man's experience, short 
as it is, furnishes abundant illustration of the method 
by which these modifications have taken place. The 
mode in which the existing breed of race-horses has 
been produced is a case in point. Simply by taking 
a score of horses and selecting from these the fleetest 
to pair together, and then again selecting the fleet- 
est of their offspring, he will soon produce an animal 
whose speed far exceeds that of the native race from 
which he sprung. The different kinds of dogs, so 
unlike in all their external characteristics, — the 
mastifl', the greyhound, the terrier, — have all been 
developed from allied varieties of the wolf and jackal. 
Our domestic pigeons, where the divergences, due in 
most cases to human fancy, are still more remark- 
able, are all descended from a single species of wild 
pigeon. 

^ Mill, Three Essays, etc., Theism, D. 172. 



164 THE THEISTIC ARGUMENT. 

To comprehend how nature conducts her long 
process of natural selection we must remember that 
the reproductive capacity of plants and of the lower 
animals almost transcends belief. Thus, a minute 
alpine plant (proto-coccus) is said to multiply so fast 
in a single night as to color many acres of snow 
blood-red. A single codfish is estimated to lay six 
million eggs within a year. This enormous increase 
can only be kept within just bounds by the destruc- 
tion of the greater number. Of the six million em- 
bryo codfish but a small number reach maturity. 
This is what is meant by the struggle for existence, 
the universal law of the natural world. Those only 
survive and propagate their kind which are best 
adapted to the conditions in which they live. By a 
stern method nature saves from the general slaugh- 
ter only those who are best able to support them- 
selves. But, during this process, the external con- 
ditions are also changing. Modifications of the 
earth's surface, in the moisture of the atmosphere, 
in the intensity of solar heat, are ever going on, and 
thus, in the constant struggle, no constant race re- 
mains, but new varieties are constantly produced, 
once more under new conditions, to renew and per- 
petuate the endless struggle. Only time is needed 
to explain all phenomena of variation. 

But without dwelling at greater length upon a 
theory which has been rendered familiar to us all 
by recent discussion, let us ask the only question 
with which we are here concerned, how does it af- 
fect the argument of design t For the sake of the 
argument let us concede that the theory of natural 
selection is well established. To what conclusion 
does it lead.f* It has been hastily inferred that the 



THE ARGUMENT FROM DESIGN. 165 

doctrine of finality has received its death-blow from 
this theory. Is this a logical result? Taking Mr. 
Darwin's own account, natural selection is evidently 
not an agent, but simply a result. It is nothing 
more than the success of one animal in its strug- 
gle with another. Thus, by fleeing for generations 
from its enemies, the swiftness of the antelope has 
been developed. By seeking its food from trees, the 
long neck of the giraffe has gradually been drawn 
out. But the primal productive agency in both these 
cases was not natural selection. Natural selection 
was simply a negative condition. It created noth- 
ing ; it simply destroyed a large part of that already 
in existence. When we are told that natural selec- 
tion "effects improvement," that it "develops struc- 
ture," this language can be only metaphor. For 
natural selection can do nothing. It can produce 
no new variety, but only determines what new vari- 
ety, under favorable circumstances, shall survive. 

Now what strikes us most forcibly in the natural 
world is not simply the fact of development, but the 
fact that this development has been progressive, 
and that it proceeds in accordance with an orderly 
method, a method which results in the constant for- 
mation of more highly organized species. How shall 
this be accounted for } There are but two explana- 
tions possible : chance variation running through 
long periods of time, or variation according to pre- 
arranged order. Only let us have an infinity of time, 
it is urged, and the right variation will, sooner or 
later, take place, and be perpetuated. But these va- 
riations join on, in every instance, to what has been 
produced before, forming a harmonious fabric, and 
they occur not as fluctuating and vanishing products, 



1 66 THE THE IS TIC ARGUMENT. 

but as fixed and permanent modifications. Let us 
go back to the illustration of the eye. Accepting 
this explanation, we are forced to the conclusion 
that this organ, not only with its inimitable contri- 
vance for adjusting the focus to different distances, 
for admitting different amounts of light, for the cor- 
rection of spherical and chromatic aberration, but 
with its nerve unlike any other in the system, its 
external mechanism of lid and lashes, is the result 
of chance. Such a hypothesis violates moral pos- 
sibility ; it is, in fact, nothing but the discarded doc- 
trine of Lucretius and the Epicureans. 

We have only left the other hypothesis, that nat- 
ural selection works according to fixed laws. But 
laws in nature are simply uniform facts. And as 
soon as we look at them clearly, we see everywhere 
coincidence, correspondence, correlation. If they 
result finally in elaborate and intricate system, they 
must contain system and imply system. Hence the 
so-called law of variability must, itself, be taken as 
the expression of a purpose. For the variation of 
an organism must be, in some measure, at least, de- 
termined by the original constitution of the organ- 
ism. Nobody expects to gather figs of thistles. And 
this variation proceeds just as much in a definite 
direction. In the nature of things there is no more 
reason for improvement than for deterioration. 
Why is improvement and advance the rale } Sim- 
ply because the internal constitution of the organ- 
ism is in every case adjusted to external circum- 
stances. Natural selection cannot account for this 
adjustment. So the law of over-production, which 
results in the survival of the fittest, is obviously sim- 
ply a means of attaining a desired result. It may 



THE ARGUMENT FROM DESIGN. 1 6/ 

seem to us a mysterious law, involving so much as 
it seems to do of privation, pain, and death ; but it 
is not the less the method by which nature works, 
and by which ultimate order, harmony, and perfec- 
tion are secured among living creatures. 

The law of natural selection, therefore, not only 
does not conflict with the argument of design, but 
affords new illustration of it. It is a contrivance 
for securing a desired result. The proofs which 
have been brought forward so abundantly to estab- 
lish the theory of natural selection, are in reality 
new arguments in favor of finality in nature. The 
works of Mr. Darwin himself are rich in such ex- 
pressions as ''beautiful contrivances" and "marvel- 
ous adjustments." The human mind seems instinc- 
tively to adopt this mode of interpreting the facts 
of nature. 

"The issue," says Professor Gray, "between the 
skeptic and the theist is only the old one, long ago 
argued out, namely, whether organic nature is a 
result of design or of chance. Variation and natural 
selection open no third alternative ; they concern 
only the question how the results, whether fortuitous 
or designed, may have been brought about. Organic 
nature abounds with unmistakable and irresistible 
indications of design, and, being a connected and 
consistent system, this evidence carries the implica- 
tion of design throughout the whole. On the other 
hand, chance carries no probabilities with it, can 
never be .developed into a consistent system, but 
when applied to the explanation of orderly or bene- 
ficial results, heaps up improbabilities at every step 
beyond all computation." ^ 

1 Darwiniana, p. 153. 



LECTURE VI. 

EVOLUTION AND FINAL CAUSE. 

In my argument thus far, I have sought to show- 
that the universe, as it exists, implies a cause ; that 
from the order and harmony which it everywhere 
displays we have a right to infer the presence of 
intelligence, and that from the manifold adjustments 
which are not less manifest, we have a further right 
to clothe this intelligence with the characteristics of 
purpose and finality. All this by no means amounts 
to a complete theistic proof, nor would the argument, 
in this incomplete form, satisfy the legitimate de- 
mands of the religious nature. We need to go much 
further and embrace much more within the scope of 
our conclusions before the great problem of natural 
theology is solved. But before proceeding to the 
next stage of the discussion, something is needed to 
complete what has been already said. In the course 
of my remarks, I have repeatedly referred to a the- 
ory which is so fundamental and characteristic a 
feature of modern thought that its bearing upon nat- 
ural theology requires to be submitted to a somewhat 
more detailed examination. I refer to the doctrine 
of evolution. 

In noticing the objections urged against intelli- 
gence and against design, I have already considered 
briefly some specific forms which this theory has 
assumed, but its prominence at the present time 



EVOLUTION AND FINAL CAUSE. 1 69 

makes it incumbent on us, before going further, to 
consider it as a whole. For the doctrine of evolu- 
tion may be said to sum up and comprehend the 
speculative movement of our time. It is the word 
which science pronounces as a solution of the riddle 
of existence, the characteristic form in which the 
thought of the present age has shaped itself. As 
formulated in its widest compass, by its leading ex- 
ponent, the unhesitating claim is made that it has 
involved the exercise of intellectual gifts not less 
supreme than those required to demonstrate the 
law of gravitation, while for the grandeur of the con- 
ception it involves, as well as for the vastness of its 
consequences, and the extent of the revolution it 
is destined to effect in human thought, the work 
achieved by Spencer must be regarded, we are told, 
as fully on a par with that which has made Newton 
immortal. And, with whatever abatement of the 
praise due any single individual, the fact must be 
conceded that the doctrine of evolution has, in our 
day, gained a rapid and widespread ascendency. 

This doctrine must be accepted then as the char- 
acteristic note of contemporary thought, and any 
discussion of natural theology would be incomplete 
which did not recognize its various, direct, and im- 
portant bearings. The doctrine, considered in it- 
self, I do not undertake to criticize. It would be 
wholly foreign to the purposes of this discussion to 
pass in review the scientific grounds by which it 
claims to be established. It is sufficient that it has 
now a wide acceptance, and seems winning a wider 
acceptance every day. It is enough, in illustration 
of what the doctrine is, to refer to the familiar fact, 
established by the researches of physiologists two 



I/O THE THE IS TIC ARGUMENT 

centuries ago, that every animal without exception, 
at the outset of its existence, consists, simply of a 
minute, structureless, and homogeneous germ. In 
this primitive stage, from which we have all alike 
emerged, the man, the monkey, the dog, the parrot, 
cannot be distinguished from one another. So far 
as the closest scrutiny of science has been able to 
push its examination, they all begin their varied 
careers at precisely the same point, — and not only 
this, but every part of each of these germs is pre- 
cisely like every other part, in texture, in composi- 
tion, in temperature, and in specific gravity. Yet out 
of this simple and homogeneous beginning springs 
all the wonderful variety that the world of ani- 
mated nature shows. From this one source comes 
man with his wide discourse of reason, the ape 
with his grimaces, the hound with his keen scent, 
the bird with his thick warbled note and his brill- 
iant plumage. And not only is this true of all that 
now exists, but it is not less true of all that has for- 
merly existed. The idea is fruitful, and capable of 
quick and wide extension. If the marvelously 
complicated and diverse structures which we see 
around us can be evolved, as we see them every 
day, from such simple beginnings, why may not all 
life, all organic beings, all nature, whether in its 
grandest or its humblest forms, be traced back, in 
the same way, through numberless ages, to a similar 
origin } Derived, in the first instance, from physi- 
ology, the theory has at last been made to include 
not only the physical, but the moral and the intel- 
lectual sphere. Zoology, geology, astronomy, his- 
tory, politics, morals, have all been brought within 
its sway. Evolution is affirmed as the principle 



EVOLUTION AND FINAL CAUSE. 171 

that underlies all existence, the conception that 
gives unity and cohesion to all manifestations of 
life and force. 

Freed, as far as possible, from mere technical and 
abstract phraseology, the principle of evolution may 
be reduced to this statement : that nothing in na- 
ture is produced in a complete or finished form, but 
on the contrary everything commences in a rudi- 
mentary state, and by a slow succession, through 
modifications slight in degree but infinite in num- 
ber, it at last appears in its final determinate form, 
then again, by a reversing of the process, to be car- 
ried back again to its original condition. These 
changes, produced by forces inherent in matter, are 
what make up the endless rhythm of evolution and 
dissolution, and to this law the appeal is made to 
explain as well the beginning as the end of the ma- 
terial universe. Th'us the great globes that revolve 
in space are compacted out of nebulous ether, and 
thus, having performed their appointed rounds, their 
solid mass is resolved again into thin air. For it is 
claimed that the universe, both as a whole and in 
all its parts, is subject to this law, which explains 
not only the organization of matter, but the origin 
and development of life, and the long succession of 
organic species. Nature is, in fact, an endless 
change from the indefinite to the definite, from the 
simple to the complex, from the unrelated like to 
the related unlike. 

To give the form of this theory with a little more 
precision, it may be stated that the co-existence of 
antagonistic forces, throughout the knowable uni- 
verse, necessitates a universal rhythm of motion ; 
and that in proportion to the number of forces any- 



172 THE THEISTIC ARGUMENT. 

where concerned in producing a given set of mo- 
tions, the resulting rhythms are complex. Hence, 
as a result of each rhythm, must occur a redistribu- 
tion of matter and motion. That redistribution in- 
volves, on the one hand, an integration of matter, 
with a concomitant dissipation of motion, and on 
the other, a disintegration of matter, with a con- 
comitant absorption of motion. The former pro- 
cess, which results in the acquirement of individual 
existence, is termed evolution, and the latter, which 
results in a loss of individual existence, is termed 
dissolution. Without pushing further this abstruse 
analysis of the factors concerned in evolution, it 
will be enough to give the modern statement of the 
principle, which is that " the integration of matter 
and concomitant dissipation of motion, which pri- 
marily constitutes evolution, is attended with a con- 
tinuous change from indefinite, 'incoherent homoge- 
neity to definite coherent heterogeneity of structure 
and function, through successive differentiations 
and integrations." 

Aside from this extremely abstract form, into 
which it has been cast by Mr. Spencer, the doctrine 
of evolution contains nothing new. The idea did 
not originate with him, nor in our own time, but may 
be certainly traced back as far as Leibnitz. It was 
this great thinker who uttered the maxim, " the pres- 
ent is big with the future," and in this maxim the 
modern idea of evolution is virtually contained. As 
Leibnitz advanced the theory it was opposed to a 
mechanical conception of nature prevailing in his 
day, but in his mind it did not stand in any antago- 
nism to theistic belief. It did not, in the least, con- 
tradict the notion of a first cause, nor was it in the 



EVOLUTION AND FINAL CAUSE. 1 73 

slightest degree incompatible with the theory of final 
cause. What Leibnitz maintained strenuously, in all 
his philosophy, was that the highest idea which we 
can form of a creator is to suppose him creating a 
world capable of developing itself by its own laws, 
without requiring a constant interference on his 
part to sustain and govern it. Nothing was further 
from his purpose than to weaken our conception of 
a divine agency in nature. He simply held that the 
Almighty had implanted, at the beginning, in each 
creature the law by which its whole subsequent de- 
velopment was shaped. 

In this sense, the idea of evolution was simply 
opposed to the doctrine of special creation, and of 
a constant divine interference to shape the course 
of the world. First in our own time has this doc- 
trine, based on a wider induction and set forth 
with more scientific precision, been clothed with an 
anti-theistic meaning. In virtue of this secret and 
incessant and long continued process, it is claimed, 
by which everything that exists is continually 
changing its form, and accommodating itself to the 
medium in which it lives, the functions and adap- 
tations everywhere displayed in nature are suffi- 
ciently accounted for. The explanation which the 
race has so long cherished is dismissed as a need- 
less hypothesis, and the endless rhythm of evolu- 
tion and dissolution is put forward as a satisfying 
explanation, at once, of the mystery and harmony 
of things. This theory, it is claimed, meets better 
than any other the claims of reason. The legiti- 
mate demand of reason is for unity, for there can 
be but one ultimate ground for what exists, and by 
this theory alone the whole universe is explained, 



174 "^HE THE IS TIC ARGUMENT. 

as a homogeneous and coherent system, naturally 
evolved out of a single primary substance. It is a 
simple explanation, as it asks for nothing outside 
itself. 

That there is any universal law of evolution or 
dissolution, and that one is united with the other by 
a mystic rhythmic harmony, such as the followers of 
Mr. Spencer imagine, is a doctrine which, it need 
hardly be said, is destitute as yet of any scientific 
proof ; but evolution in the limited sense that na- 
ture presents to us an infinite variety of movements 
up and down, may be accepted as an established 
principle. No one will deny it who has ever sown 
seed with the expectation that it would spring up, 
or has hatched chickens out of eggs. Evolution in 
this sense is merely a process of nature, a process 
which implies constituent elements and conditions, 
and which proceeds in accordance with regular 
method. It is true that the process may be traced 
back to a point where the characteristic constituent 
elements cannot be discriminated, where to all ap- 
pearance the germ of the man, the monkey, and the 
parrot, are just alike; but no one doubts that even 
here, though the most minute scrutiny of science 
cannot detect it, a difference exists, and that all 
the later modifications of the being produced are 
simply the result of this original distinction. 

Evolution, with whatever accumulation of elaborate 
phraseology we may dress it up, remains still an evo- 
lution out of something. Far back as we may 
go, we cannot go back so far that we do not encoun- 
ter existence, in however simple and homogeneous 
a form. Evolution is a process, but a process which 
implies material to be evolved. What this original 



EVOLUTION AND FINAL CAUSE. 1 75 

material was is mere matter of conjecture, but its 
existence is a fact which must be assumed, and for 
which evolution, as a mere process, manifestly can- 
not account. So far as the great problem of the 
beginning of things is concerned, we are left by this 
theory precisely where we were before. We may 
assume as proved the nebular hypothesis, and be- 
lieve that the sun and planets once existed in space 
as a fiery cloud. But the solar system evidently 
could not have been evolved out of its nebulous state 
if the nebula had not possessed, at the outset, a cer- 
tain mass, form, and constitution ; in short, a sys- 
tem presenting to the reason a problem demanding 
solution no less than the existence of the planets. 
We have pushed the problem beck, but it remains 
the same problem still. 

Unless we have recourse to the fanciful theory of 
rhythmic evolution and dissolution, — the universe, 
through, eternal ages, with no directing intelligence 
enacting the strange drama of slowly forming itself 
from chaos and developing into the varied and per- 
fected forms of life with which we are familiar, only 
once more to be dissolved into its original elements, 
all things without form and void, as they were in 
the beginning, a hypothesis not only destitute of all 
scientific proof, but contradicted by all the analogies 
of nature that we see around us, — we are driven to 
assume that this visible universe had a beginning in 
time. Scientific reasoning points to this conclusion ; 
at this point evolution began, and for all that existed 
up to this point, evolution does not account. But 
evidently evolution, taken in this sense, does not con- 
flict with the idea of an intelligent cause. Des- 
cartes, a devout believer, in his famous discourse on 



176 THE THE IS TIC ARGUMENT 

method, clearly recognizes the principle that even if, 
at the beginning, there existed nothing but chaos, 
still, if the laws of nature were established, it is 
more easy to conceive of all things coming in time 
to exist as they now do, than to conceive of them as 
created by one act.^ 

Mr. Spencer himself clearly recognizes this when 
he tells us : " The genesis of an atom is no eas- 
ier to conceive than the genesis of a planet." In- 
deed, far from rendering the universe less mysteri- 
ous than before, this theory makes a greater mystery 
of it. Creation by fabrication seems less wonderful 
than creation by evolution ; a man can bring a ma- 
chine together ; he cannot make a machine that de- 
velops itself. That our harmonious universe should 
formerly have existed potentially in the state of dif- 
fused matter, without form, and that it should grad- 
ually have attained its present organization, is much 
more marvelous than its formation according to the 
artificial method supposed by the vulgar would be. 
Those who consider it legitimate to argue from phe- 
nomena to noumena, have good right to maintain 
that the nebular hypothesis implies a primary cause 
" as superior to the mechanical god of Paley as that 
is to the fetish of the savage." So that, whatever 
ground we may have for believing in a first cause, 
or in an intelligent first cause, that ground is not 
in the slightest degree impaired by the doctrine of 
evolution. For evolution is only a method, and leads 
us inevitably back to our great original. 

It may be said that in this reasoning we assume 
that matter has been created, whereas physical sci- 
ence has demonstrated beyond doubt that matter is 

1 Discours de la Methode : Janet, Final Causes, p. 254. 



• EVOLUTION AND FINAL CAUSE. 1 77 

absolutely incapable of increase or diminution, of 
creation or of annihilation. I reply that physical 
science has done, and can do, no such thing. Phys- 
ical science, as understood and taught by its ablest 
professors, does not undertake to draw any such 
conclusions. Its inferences are bounded by experi- 
ence. It does not venture to define what is possible 
or impossible beyond the line traced by its own ex- 
periment. All that it affirms is, that matter cannot 
be destroyed by any of the methods known to man, 
and that it is not destroyed by any of the processes 
revealed in nature. This is simply affirming that, 
in the physical system which is known to us, matter 
is indestructible. Science has a perfect right to say 
that matter has no beginning and no end, for it 
has none in any of the processes, and the relations, 
that science traces ; any inference beyond this is 
purely unscientific reasoning. We may conclude, 
then, that any theory of evolution which includes 
as a premise the doctrine that matter is eternal, is 
a theory which science will not recognize. 

And, if evolution cannot be explained from the 
eternity of matter, as little can it be rested on mere 
force. We are told that force is inherent in matter ; 
that matter has an inherent activity ; that matter 
and force are inseparable, and that both have existed 
from eternity. These are bold assertions, and in 
striking contrast with the cautious words of Newton, 
who wrote : " that gravity should be innate, inherent, 
and essential to matter, so that one body may act 
upon another at a distance through a vacuum, with- 
out the mediation of anything else, by and through 
which their action and force may be conveyed from 
one to another, is to me so great an absurdity, that 
12 



178 THE THE IS TIC ARGUMENT. * 

I believe no man, who has in philosophical matters 
a competent faculty of thinking, can ever fall into 
it." 1 I know that physical science has made great 
advance since Newton's time, and that the scientific 
conception of matter to-day is very different from 
what it was two centuries ago ; but the doctrine that 
matter is endowed with potencies which make it 
continually self-active, and go far to identify it with 
spirit, is a doctrine that cannot be claimed as a 
demonstrated result of science. 

Yet, leaving out of the discussion as irrelevant 
the question whether matter is eternal or created, 
and granting that evolution does not do away with 
a first cause, it may still be objected that this cause 
is removed so far back as to strip the idea of any 
practical effect. A first cause carried back through 
incalculable epochs of time, and only felt and recog- 
nized to-day through a process of necessary trans- 
formations, that imagination can no more conceive 
than it can conceive the limitless abysses of space, 
is virtually taken out of the sphere of human 
thought and action. But this objection wholly mis- 
conceives the process of evolution as expressed in 
the specific forms which the theory has assumed. 
The law of natural selection, for example, implies 
not only an original germ as the starting-point, but 
a long series of favorable conditions. The presence 
of these external conditions is an essential part of 
the theory, and these external conditions are not 
fixed once for all, at the beginning, but must con- 
tinually vary with the transformation of the individ- 
ual. For evolution can continue only upon the con- 
dition of this harmony between the individual and 
its surroundings at every successive stage of growth. 

1 [Letter to Bentley : Newton, Opera, iv, p. 438.] 



EVOLUTION AND FINAL CAUSE. 1 79 

Evolution is not, then, the blind working of me- 
chanical forces ; for, on that hypothesis, we are log- 
ically driven back to the ancient doctrine, that the 
universe had its origin in the mere fortuitous con- 
currence of atoms. Its order, its harmony, its con- 
stant progress from a lower to a higher state, cannot 
be accounted for on such a theory. We have the 
favorable conditions as §, part of the process. These 
favorable conditions are ever varying ; they result 
from intricate combinations of invariable forces. We 
have, in all this, more than the idea of intelligent 
cause ; we have an ever-acting cause ; hence evolu- 
tion, instead of pushing far back the transcendental 
ground of being, reveals that ground as a present 
source of phenomena that surround us at every 
stage of our progress. Evolution could not go on 
without the constant action of this ever-present 
cause. Evolution, then, is simply a method by 
which the Supreme Cause acts. In the words of 
the Duke of Argyle, '' Creation by law, evolution 
by law, development by law, or, as including all 
these kindred ideas, the reign of law, is nothing but 
the reign of creative force directed by creative knowl- 
edge, worked under the control of creative power, 
and in fulfillment of creative purpose." ^ 

In discussing this subject we must keep carefully 
in mind the distinction between evolution as a the- 
ory of the universe, a law claiming to be universal 
and all-pervading as gravitation, and to account for 
all forms of organic and inorganic being ; and evolu- 
tion in the more limited and modest sense in which 
it is asserted by most men of science, and in which 
it professes to be based directly upon facts of nat- 

1 Reign of Law, p. 294. 



l80 THE THEISTIC ARGUMENT. 

ure. In this sense, it is to be accepted precisely like 
other facts ; not to be rashly set in opposition to 
them, but to be interpreted in accordance with them. 
One class of natural phenomena illustrates every 
other class. The sound conclusions of science must 
be drawn from these phenomena, taken as a wliole, 
not from any one exclusive class considered by itself. 
The recognition of evolution, as a method of nature, 
has unquestionably worked already a great modifica- 
tion in our conception of the physical universe, and 
no doubt is destined to work still greater in the 
future ; for a mechanical it has substituted a dy- 
namical conception ; it has correlated and explained 
phenomena that seemed disconnected and apart ; still 
as a law it has, as yet, received no generally accepted 
statement. 

As a methodof accounting for the origination of 
living things, it simply stands in opposition to the 
doctrine of separate acts of creation by the imme- 
diate fiat of a supreme being. When applied to 
animals, it signifies that the various kinds are genet- 
ically connected, and that the different species have 
arisen, not from an independent source, but by a 
gradual process of transmutation. But among men 
of science who, in a modified sense, adopt the theory, 
there are very wide diversities of opinion as to the 
extent to which it may be applied in explanation of 
the various groups of natural objects. Many hold 
to special acts of creative agency at particular stages 
of transition in the long process, and some would 
regard the introduction of man himself upon the 
stage as one of these acts. Mr. Darwin holds that 
animal life, including the human species, is traceable 
to a few primitive germs. Others think that evolu- 



EVOLUTION AND FINAL CAUSE. l8l 

tion spans what seems at first the wide chasm be- 
tween animal and vegetable life, and even between 
vegetable and inorganic existence. But that, in the 
present stage of science, much of this is mere con- 
jecture is illustrated from Mr. Huxley's confident 
prediction about the diffusion of protoplasm at the 
bottom of the ocean, which recent marine explora- 
tion has placed in the realm of mare's-nests. 

It is obvious, if we consider the matter fairly, 
that evolution, in any sense in which the doctrine 
can lay claim to a scientific footing, relates to the 
operation simply of second, or what are termed ef- 
ficient causes. It undertakes to account for the ac- 
tual condition of the world as we see it and know 
it. It does not, as a scientific theory, go a step 
beyond this ; it does not treat the problem of the 
ultimate origin of the world ; it does not necessa- 
rily raise the question whether the world, as we see 
it, is the result of intelligence ; it neither affirms 
nor denies a divine agency in the operations of na- 
ture. It is purely a hypothesis of natural science, 
and as such has nothing to do with supernatural 
problems. The man of science who applies him- 
self, in the light of its guidance, to trace out the 
links of causal connection in the phenomena of na- 
ture is following a perfectly legitimate path. The 
doctrine of natural selection is one to be proved or 
to be disproved simply by appealing to facts. If 
Mr. Darwin's conjecture as to the origin of man 
should be fully established it would no more conflict 
with theism than the fact that each living individ- 
ual has been born and not made. 

Conceding, then, the great importance in modern 
science of the theory of evolution, conceding that 



1 82 THE THE IS TIC ARGUMENT. 

it is destined indirectly to modify not only scientific 
but theological conceptions, I deny that the doc- 
trine, in any form in which science accepts it, 
stands in the least antagonism with the fundamen- 
tal ideas on which all theistic belief rests. If there 
is anything in the theory of evolution inconsistent 
with that belief it must be, not in the theory itself, 
but in some hypothesis made in connection with it. 
It can only be made the basis of materialism by be- 
ing brought into alliance with another class of as- 
sumptions, with which it has no necessary connec- 
tion whatever. The eternity of matter and spon- 
taneous generation are no part of the doctrine of 
evolution. Evolution, I repeat, is a fact to be ex- 
plained in the light of other facts. One universal 
characteristic of evolution is that it proceeds ac- 
cording to law, and is carried on by means of intri- 
cate and harmonious adjustments. This order, and 
these adjustments, are just as much facts as evolu- 
tion itself, and in seeking to explain the one, we are 
bound never to lose sight of the other. Evolution 
does not destroy, but confirms, the proof of intelli- 
gent cause. 

If there is nothing in evolution which contradicts 
the notion of a first cause, we have next to ask 
whether evolution renders irrational and needless 
the conception of final cause. It is against the 
theory of finality in nature that evolution has been 
most decidedly arrayed, and some of those who 
have adopted this latest explanation of the phenom- 
ena of nature have hastened to proclaim that by it 
the mechanical God of Paley has been forever set 
aside. Thus, Mr. Huxley says : — 

" In Paley's famous illustration, the adaptation of all 



EVOLUTION AND FINAL CAUSE. 1 83 

the parts of the watch to the function or purpose of 
showing the time, is held to be evidence that the watch 
was specially contrived to that end, on the ground 
that the only cause we know of competent to produce 
such an effect as a watch which shall keep time, is a con- 
triving intelligence, adapting the means directly to that 
end. Suppose, however, that any one had been able to 
show that the watch had not been made directly by any 
person, but that it was the result of the modification of 
another watch which kept time but poorly, and that this, 
again, had proceeded from a structure which could hardly 
be called a watch at all, seeing that it had no figures on 
the dial, and the works were rudimentary, and that going 
back and back in time we come, at last, to a revolving 
barrel as the earliest traceable rudiment of the whole 
fabric ; and imagine that it had been possible to show 
that all these changes had resulted first, from a tendency 
in the structure to vary indefinitely, and secondly, from 
something in the surrounding world which helped all va- 
riations in the direction of an accurate time-keeper, and 
checked all those in other directions, — then it is obvi- 
ous that the force of Paley's argument would be gone."^ 

On the contrary Dr. Paley, had he been alive, 
would probably have replied to Professor Huxley 
that by this ingenious and complicated hypothesis 
his argument was not weakened in the least For 
we have now to account for the existence of a re- 
volving barrel, capable of such extraordinary trans- 
formation, and of that mysterious something in its 
surroundings which helped all its variations in one 
direction and checked them in every other. We 
are forced to admit some primordial arrangement in 
accordance with which all these transformations 
were directed, and the greater the interval between 

1 {Lay Sermons, pp. 330, 331 (Flint, Theism, p. 197).] 



1 84 THE THEISTIC ARGUMENT. 

the original barrel and the final completed watch — 
the greater the number of connecting steps between 
the first and the last of these two terms — the more 
convincing the evidence of the purpose which 
worked itself out through the entire process. 

Let us now ask, is there anything in the doctrine 
of evolution which renders irrational the theory of 
a final cause ? There is certainly nothing in human 
experience which would lead to such a conclusion. 
In all the operations of man the existence of a final 
cause harmonizes with the law of evolution. Every 
plan that we form for the future, every combination 
that we make for achieving some purpose, involves 
a final cause, yet the execution is gradual, and in- 
volves many intermediate steps. Thus, I form a 
purpose to write a course of lectures, but the exe- 
cution of this purpose proceeds by steps, and by a 
law of evolution. In all human industry the whole 
chain of successive steps is prepared and directed 
to attain the final end. True, in human industry, 
we constantly interpose, so that we do not have a 
perfect illustration of evolution ; but it is easy to 
conceive of an operation directed by so much 
greater power and wisdom that only a single initial 
purpose should suffice for endless combinations. 
Evolution, in its idea, then, not only does not ex- 
clude final cause, but seems naturally to imply it. 
For evolution is simply development, and develop- 
ment implies tendency towards an end. If we ad- 
mit a tendency we thereby admit finality. 

The theory of evolution, instead of rendering the 
notion of final cause absurd, leads to a conception of 
finality that is grander and more impressive. When, 
for example, we consider the marvelous structure of 



EVOLUTION AND FINAL CAUSE. 1 85 

the eye, and realize that it has been gradually pro- 
duced by organizing forces which have fashioned it 
through the agency of complex organs working har- 
moniously toward this one result, we have a much 
more complicated problem presented than in the 
case of simple mechanism. It explains nothing to 
say that this result has been brought about by vir- 
tue of a law inherent in the species, for here, in 
place of one organism, we have countless similar or- 
ganisms, and the problem is only endlessly compli- 
cated. If we carry the process a step backwards, 
and bring in the more general law of transforma- 
tion, we have only a vaster organism, moved and 
guided from the beginning in the same direction. 
If we go still further back to the inherent laws of 
matter, we have still the question, would not the 
force which by a single act produced this whole at 
the beginning, be superior to that needed to fashion 
any one of the parts } There is manifestly nothing 
in the mere idea of* evolution which cannot be 
brought into harmony with the existence of final- 
ity. ^ 

Next let us ask, is there anything in the doctrine 
of evolution that renders the hypothesis of final 
cause unnecessary f It may be conceded that the 
more we allow to nature the grander will be the 
exhibition of intelligence in her operations, provided 
the presence of intelligence be admitted ; but why, 
it may be objected, need we make this admission .'* 
If all the phenomena of nature are thus bound to- 
gether in this endless chain of evolution, why are 
they not sufficiently explained, and why do we re- 
quire any additional hypothesis } In short, is not 
^ See Janet, p. 258. 



1 86 THE THE I STIC ARGUMENT. 

the whole notion of a final cause a purely subjective 
hypothesis, which the constant extension of objec- 
tive physical laws is rendering gratuitous ? Does 
not final cause flee from us as we recognize physical 
causation ? 

But when we affirm means and ends in nature, we 
have only in mind a cause perfectly proportioned to 
its effect. Where the cause is not thus propor- 
tioned to the effect, there is nothing whatever that 
leads us to infer finality. In the case of a phenome- 
non where the cause is wholly concealed from us, 
we have simply the emotion of wonder roused, but are 
not led on to the recognition of wisdom. Hence it 
is plain that our conviction of final cause is precisely 
proportioned to our recognition of efficient cause. 
If the physical cause, in other words, was not seen 
to be sufficient, it would not be recognized as means, 
and consequently would carry with it no idea of end. 
Thus it follows that enlarged knowledge of physical 
causes cannot render needless the hypothesis of 
final cause, since one is simply the completion of 
the other. No doubt we are led to infer final causes 
because we regard physical causes as insufficient to 
account for the whole phenomenon ; but why are we 
led to this } Simply because of the agreement of 
divergent and heterogeneous causes in a phenom- 
enon which can only result from such agreement. 
The further we ascend from cause to cause, the more 
difficult does it become to account for the multi- 
plicity of these agreements, so that the more we sim- 
plify causes, in a merely physical point of view, the 
more difficult is it, from a physical cause, to account 
for the phenomenon resulting from these agree- 
ments. The physical cause is simply the possibility 



EVOLUTION AND FINAL CAUSE. 18/ 

of a given effect ; we have yet to ascertain what de- 
termines these possibilities to a given result, and 
what circumscribes within a certain limit their end- 
less variations. Far back as we can trace the pro- 
cess of evolution, matter remains simple matter, and 
force simple force. We have not explained how, 
from primitive chaos, a regular order has emerged. 

We have looked at the question only in its gen- 
eral aspects. If we now glance at the special forms 
which the theory has assumed, we shall be just as 
much impressed with the fact that the idea of final- 
ity is by no means set aside. The first to assert the 
now familiar doctrine of transmutation was La- 
marck, who made use of three principles to explain 
the organic adaptations and progressive develop- 
ment of animals. These three principles were, me- 
dium, habit, and need. The influence exerted by 
physical medium, or, in other words, by the combi- 
nation of external circumstances surrounding any 
animal, is too evident to be denied by any one ; but 
it does not appear that the organization is deter- 
mined by the medium, for who would venture to 
assert that it is the light that has made the eye .? 
The fundamental law in the development of ani- 
mals is the progressive complication of organs. But 
to account for this, even in Lamarck's view, we must 
suppose something more than medium ; we must 
recognize what he terms "a power of life." Accord- 
ing to this, medium is only a modifying cause ; it 
simply produces deviations ; it is only an obstacle to 
the regular and harmonious development of organic 
forms. 

We have left this need and habit ; the former pro- 
duces organs, while the latter develops and strength- 



1 88 THE THEISTIC ARGUMENT. 

ens them. In the hypothesis of medium the modi- 
fying power is purely external ; we have only such 
transformation as is effected when rocks are hol- 
lowed out into curious forms by the action of swift- 
running water ; but when we allege need and habit we 
are evidently dealing with internal causes. It is no 
longer the mere physical surroundings, but an internal 
power cooperating with the external forces. There 
is a capacity of accommodation to external circum- 
stance ; and how shall we account for this } Is this 
accommodation the result of mere mechanical causes, 
and therefore of chance ? To affirm this is simply to 
go back to the hypothesis of Epicurus. And grant- 
ing that habit can develop organs, does it follow that 
need can create them } The blacksmith's arm is 
made stronger by striking ; but did striking create 
the arm } But if, on the other hand, we reject as in- 
sufficient the explanation that this accommodation is 
the result of chance, if we allow that the modifica- 
tions of an organ are the result of some more or 
less conscious tendency which serves as a directing 
principle, then we are brought to recognize finality 
as the very foundation of nature. 

The insufficiency of this explanation of Lamarck 
is shown by the fact that it has been given up. Mr. 
Darwin tells us that he has no great confidence in 
such agents as the French rationalist suggests, and 
he gives us in place of them his famous theory of 
Natural Selection. Granting that this law is well 
established, let us ask how it acts. According to 
this hypothesis the adaptation results from a coinci- 
dence between the accidental production of an ad- 
vantage derived from heredity, and an accidental 
change of medium. Hence arise different varieties, 



EVOLUTION AND FINAL CAUSE, 1 89 

well armed for the struggle of life. Those, on the 
other hand, which have adhered to the original type, 
having acquired no new advantage fitted to preserve 
them in the new conditions which have arisen, per- 
ish. A popular, but wholly ill-founded objection to 
Mr. Darwin's theory may here be mentioned. He 
not only never asserted that man was descended from 
an ape, but according to his theory such an origin 
for man would be impossible. For, had man de- 
scended from an ape, he would have conquered and 
destroyed the ape in the struggle of life. What Mr. 
Darwin claims is, that man and the ape are both 
divergent deviations from some original type which 
has long passed away. 

Mr. Darwin's theory appeals for support to the 
results obtained in the artificial breeding of animals. 
But, in making the transition from artificial to nat- 
ural selection, we have to account for the fact that 
nature, working blindly, by mere coincidence of cir- 
cumstances, attains precisely the same end that man 
attains by a premeditated plan. In order that nat- 
ural selection might obtain the same results that 
man obtains, nature would have to be capable of 
choice. But how can we admit that an animal 
which has undergone a mere chance modification, 
should seek out another individual, affected by pre- 
cisely the same modification, for the sake of perpet- 
uating itself } And granting that, in one instance, 
this took place, can we account for the fact that it is 
repeated for successive generations } According to 
Mr. Darwin, nature practices an unconscious selec- 
tion, and those species most favored necessarily pre- 
vail by right of the strongest. Evidently, however, 
if the cause of change is simply natural selection, 



1 90 THE THEISTIC ARGUMENT. 

there is no reason why it should not take place while 
the surrounding circumstances remain unchanged, 
and species ought to vary before our eyes. If hu- 
man industry creates new varieties with such rapid- 
ity, why should not nature produce similar changes ? 

This line of argument is not directed against the 
general truth of the doctrine of natural selection, 
but is only designed to show that too much is 
claimed for it. The principle of natural selection, 
even when combined with the additional force de- 
rived from the survival of the fittest, cannot have the 
importance which Mr. Darwin ascribes to it. Con- 
ceding the utmost that can be legitimately claimed, 
it still fails to explain the origin of organized forms. 
Here some internal principle of transformation must 
be admitted, and thus we are brought directly face 
to face, again, with the idea of finality. Mere nat- 
ural selection, when the surrounding circumstances 
remain the same, can only in accidental cases be- 
come a principle of modification and change. True, 
it is claimed, that it is where the external conditions, 
for some reason, come to be different, that the law 
of natural selection will be found to work most pow- 
erfully. But here we have to encounter the grave 
difficulty, that animal structures are bound together 
by organic correlations, and that, consequently, if a 
chief organ from external causes undergoes an im- 
portant modification, all the other essential organs 
must be modified in the same direction. 

Mr. Darwin meets this objection by admitting 
what he terms a correlation of growth, that is, that 
there are, in animals, connected and sympathetic 
variations which occur at the same time, and in the 
same manner. But if these correlations are, in every 



4 



EVOLUTION AND FINAL CAUSE. I91 

instance, precisely those required to meet the change 
in the external conditions of the animal, the question 
at once arises, why should organs, that can only act 
in harmony, be modified at the same time and in the 
same way ? The theory of mere fortuitous modifi- 
cation is thus seen to present insuperable difficulties 
when applied to the formation of organs. Applied 
to the explanation of ijistinct, the theory will serve 
no better. In short, the more closely we study any 
of the various theories of transmutation, the greater 
will the difficulty become of explaining the origin of 
organic forms by mere external and mechanical 
causes. And it should be observed that the ablest 
expounders of the doctrine of evolution habitually 
fall into the use of language which implies finality. 
They speak of an intrinsic and innate property in 
nature, " of a power which harmonizes each member 
with the whole, by adapting it to the function it 
must fulfill in the general organism." ^ And what is 
this but final cause t 

The theory of evolution, as is well known, has 
been most precisely formulated, and has been pushed 
to its farthest extreme by Mr. Herbert Spencer. By 
him it has been elevated to the rank of a universal 
principle which accounts for everything. All the 
infinite multiplicity of transformations which have 
been required to convert the nebulous mass of which 
the universe once consisted into its present orderly 
arrangement, and the whole series of living, organ- 
isms from the lowest vegetable form up to the brain 
of Shakespeare or La Place, can be explained from 
the operation of this ever-acting and everywhere 
present principle. Yet Mr. Spencer is emphatic in 

1 See Janet, p. 295. 



192 THE THEISTIC ARGUMEN7\ 

his rejection of finality. Even Lamarck and Darwin 
seem, from their language, at times, to admit the 
possibility of a plastic principle which gives form to 
matter. But Mr. Spencer systematically excludes 
this. With him everything can be derived from 
the laws of force and motion. To quote his own 
words : — 

" In whatever way it is formulated, or by whatever lan- 
guage it is obscured, this ascription of organic evolution 
to some aptitude naturally possessed by organisms, or 
miraculously imposed upon them, is unphilosophical. It 
is one of those explanations which explain nothing, — a 
shaping of ignorance into the semblance of knowledge. 
The cause assigned is not a true cause, — not a cause 
assimilable to known causes ; not a cause that can be 
anywhere shown to produce analogous effects. It is a 
cause unrepresentable in thought ; one of those illegiti- 
mate, symbolical conceptions which cannot by any men- 
tal process be elaborated into a real conception. In 
brief, this assumption of a persistent formative power, in- 
herent in organisms, and making them unfold into higher 
forms, is an assumption no more tenable than the as- 
sumption of special creations, of which, indeed, it is but 
a modification, differing only by the fusion of separate 
unknown processes into a continuous unknown process." ^ 

If we analyze the system of Mr. Spencer, we find 
that the two fundamental principles by which he 
seeks to account for life and organization are, inter- 
nal coordination, and external correspondence with 
the medium. Life, he says, is a coordination of ac- 
tions, imperfect coordination is disease, and arrest 
of coordination is death. Low organisms display 
but little coordination, while, on the other hand, as 

1 Quoted by Janet, p. 299, from Spencer, Biology, P. iii. ch. viii. 



EVOLUTION AND FINAL CAUSE. 1 93 

we rise in the scale of life, we find the extent and 
the complexity of the coordinations constantly in- 
creasing. 

But this is not enough ; we must add a second 
principle, which is supplied in what is termed the 
correspondence of the medium, or the continued ad- 
justment of internal to external relations. We have a 
striking illustration of this in the embryo where, from 
beginning to end, there is a gradual and continued 
adjustment, all the phases of the organism corre- 
sponding strictly to the phases of the medium. Thus 
the embryos of viviparous animals are fed in the 
womb by direct communication with the mother ; 
but at a given moment this communication ceases, 
and a complete separation between the two beings 
is effected. Does death ensue in consequence } By 
no means. The new-born creature is adjusted to a 
new medium. But, is it not evident that such new 
adjustment is only rendered possible from the fact 
that it has been anticipated and prepared for t and 
how can such preparation be explained from the 
blind working of mere mechanical forces } So that, 
granting the proposition that coordination and cor- 
respondence are the two constituent principles of 
life, what do we find after all to be involved in these 
two principles or aptitudes but the essential and 
characteristic marks of that fundamental law which 
we term finality } 

Mr. Spencer seeks to establish two propositions 
as representing in the most general form the tenden- 
cies of all the changes in the universe. These are, 
first, that nature tends to proceed from the homo- 
geneous to the heterogeneous ; and, secondly, that it 
tends to proceed from the indefinite to the definite. 
13 



194 ^-^^ THE IS TIC ARGUMENT. 

Without discussing the grounds on which these prin- 
ciples are made to rest, we need only ask, in this con- 
nection, what do they amount to ? The sole ques- 
tion at issue is, whether blind mechanical forces are 
adequate to explain what we see everywhere around 
us. The mere abstract statement of the law by 
which these changes proceed does not, in the least, 
solve this problem. State the question as we please, 
we are, at last, shut up to the alternative that or- 
ganic forces are either the result of fortuitous com- 
binations, or are the product of intelligence. The 
theory of evolution means, therefore, nothing more 
than the doctrine that organic beings have risen by 
degrees from less to more perfect forms, a doctrine 
that contains nothing whatever opposed to the the- 
ory of final causes, or else it must be reduced to a 
new statement of the old doctrine of chance, a doc- 
trine which the intelligence of mankind rejects as a 
childish explanation of the origin of the universe. 

That the theory of evolution is radically opposed 
to the doctrine of final cause, and that as it is ex- 
tended it tends more and more to push final causes 
out of sight, has been loudly asserted by some of 
the disciples of Mr. Spencer. It is claimed that 
the whole conception of final causes rests on the as- 
sumption that the Deity entertains intentions and 
purposes closely resembling the intentions and pur- 
poses of men, and that hence, although it involves a 
more refined conception than the mediaeval notion 
of an arbitrary providence, it still retains a strong 
element of anthropomorphism. " The career of the 
theory, it is said, has consequently been that of a 
perishable hypothesis, born of primeval habits of 
thought, rather than that of a permanent doctrine 



EVOLUTION AND FINAL CAUSE. 1 95 

obtained by the employment of scientific methods." 
'' Hence, with the steady advance of knowledge the 
search for final causes has been discarded in the 
simpler sciences, until it is kept up only in the com- 
plex and difficult branches of biology and sociol- 
ogy." 1 From these remaining strongholds it has 
now almost been driven by recent discoveries, and 
the prospect now is that with every advance of 
science this anthropomorphic conception will be 
robbed of some part of its jurisdiction. 

It was Mr. Darwin, it is claimed, who first, by his 
theory of natural selection, furnished the champions 
of science with the resistless weapon by which to 
vanquish, in their chief stronghold, the champions of 
theology. For, in natural selection, there has been 
assigned an adequate cause for the marvelous phe- 
nomena of adaptation, which had formerly been re- 
garded as clear proofs of beneficent contrivance. 
" And we have only to take into account the other 
agencies in organic evolution, besides the one illus- 
trated by Mr. Darwin, to remember that life is essen- 
tially a process of equilibration, in order to be con- 
vinced that the doctrine of evolution has, once for 
all, deprived natural theology of the materials upon 
which until lately it has subsisted." The apparent 
indications of creative forethought are, in fact, so 
many illustrations of the scientific theorem that 
life, whether physical or psychical, is the continuous 
adjustment of inner relations to outer relations. In 
other words, it is not that the environment has been 
adapted to the organism by an exercise of creative 
intelHgence, but the organism is of necessity fitted 
to the environment only because the fittest survive. 

1 Fiske, Cosmic Philosophy^ vol. ii., p. 385. 



196 THE THEISTIC ARGUMENT. 

The so-called proofs of creative foresight are, there- 
fore, the mind reflecting itself. 

If I have not wholly failed of my aim in the pre- 
ceding discussion, I have already sufficiently shown 
the utter groundlessness of these loud assertions. 
I have shown that evolution is perfectly consistent 
with the idea of final cause ; that it does not render 
the hypothesis of final cause superfluous ; and the 
extension of our knowledge of physical causation, in- 
stead of putting final causes out of sight, only adds 
to the evidence in their favor. Evolution, how far 
soever we may extend it, can neither account for 
the origin of the universe as a whole, nor for the 
order and adjustment of its parts. An element en- 
ters into the problem for which the mind demands 
another and a more satisfactory solution than mere 
physical causation can furnish. To affirm that life 
is the continuous adjustment of inner relations to 
outer relations, is to affirm nothing to the point, 
since the adjustment is the very fact for which we 
are seeking to account. And in accounting for this, 
as I have before said, carry our investigation into 
physical causes as far back as we may, we are at 
last shut up to the two alternatives with which we 
began, that the universe had its origin in mind or in 
chance. 

And not only is it an altogether hasty and unwar- 
ranted assertion that the theory of natural selection 
has driven the doctrine of final causes off the field, 
but when we call to mind the fact that, so far as 
has yet been observed, natural selection never has 
its cause in mere external influences, and never 
occurs at random, we have every reason to believe 
that the law of natural selection, when it comes to 



EVOLUTION AND FINAL CAUSE, 1 97 

be more perfectly understood, will become one of 
the strongest supports of the argument of design. 
The vast array of facts which Mr. Darwin has accu- 
mulated with such untiring industry, and such un- 
rivaled penetration, all point in this direction ; and 
it is by no means impossible that from his well fur- 
nished armory will be drawn the most effective 
weapons in defense of the doctrine to which he has 
been so unwarrantably opposed. There is an evi- 
dent chasm in his theory which has never yet been 
filled ; his hypothesis requires another hypothesis to 
make it work. For not only is natural selection 
perfectly in harmony with design, but it absolutely 
requires the recognition of design to render it a 
complete and rational hypothesis. 

In the preceding discussion, however, it has not 
been my purpose to press evolution into the service 
of natural theology, but simply to establish the neg- 
ative proposition that it does not conflict with any 
of the grounds which have been advanced for be- 
lieving in a first cause and in final causes. What- 
ever positive religious value the theory of evolution 
may prove to have remains to be seen. It is still a 
hypothesis, and if undeniably winning its way to the 
acceptance of scientific men, must still be regarded 
as incomplete. For the present, it is enough to 
show that there is nothing in it that is opposed to 
Theism. To put in few words the substance of 
what I have endeavored to show, evolution is simply 
a scientific interpretation of the facts of nature. It 
is to be proved or disproved by an appeal to facts, 
and, in this respect, rests on precisely the same 
basis as the argument of design. As a scientific 
interpretation of nature it deals only with physical 



198 THE THEISTIC ARGUMENT. 

or second causes, and instead of being reproached 
for not going beyond this limit, it would sacrifice 
its claim to be accepted as a scientific theory if it 
undertook to deal with anything beyond. Confined 
to its legitimate field, it does not touch one of the 
problems with which natural theology deals. 

As a theory simply to account for natural phe- 
nomena, evolution may be likened to gravitation. 
Before Newton's law of gravitation was understood 
it was met with theological objections. To some 
devout men it seemed to substitute the action of a 
physical force for the direct action of Deity. It 
removed God from the world by the hypothesis of 
constant and omnipresent law. But no one would 
now for a moment claim that a universe governed 
by laws was a universe without God : on the con- 
trary, the presence and uniform .operation of law is 
one of the strongest proofs of the divine existence 
to which natural theology makes her appeal. In 
the same way, to some, evolution seemed, at first 
sight, inextricably bound up with atheism. To ex- 
plain the complex from the simpler forms of being 
wore, at first sight, the aspect of a materialistic hy- 
pothesis. But a little consideration must convince 
any candid mind that while evolution pushes the 
first cause a little further back, it does not lessen, in 
the least, the intellectual necessity which forces the 
conception of a first cause upon the mind. And, in 
furnishing us with a hypothesis of the method of 
creation, it does not in the least account for the 
method as an actual fact. 

Some justification, it should in fairness be added, 
for this misapprehension of the real meaning of evo- 
lution on the part of those who would jealously main- 



EVOLUTION AND FINAL CAUSE. 1 99 

tain the fundamental truths of theism, may be found 
in the fact that by a certain class of writers the con- 
clusions of Mr. Darwin have been loudly asserted in 
the interest of atheism and materialism. To these 
extreme advocates of evolution the theistic concep- 
tion has not only seemed modified by it, but has 
been stripped of all rational ground of support, and 
the operations of nature, whether in the physical 
or intellectual spheres, are sufficiently explained in 
the terms of matter and motion. In this view, God 
is a figment of the imagination, and matter in mo- 
tion the only real existence. With this distortion 
of the doctrine of evolution I am not here dealing. 
Those who draw such conclusions from it are no 
longer arguing as men of science. To hold that 
Mr. Darwin's theory, that a certain aggregate of 
phenomena now existing has had for its antecedent 
a certain other and different aggregate of phenom- 
ena, affects in any way the proof of the existence of 
a Supreme Being, is an absurd misconception that 
deserves notice here only to show that folly is by 
no means confined to theologians. 

"Darwinism," to quote the words of a recent writer 
who has stated this question with much fairness, "may 
convince us that the existence of highly complicated or- 
ganisms is the result of an infinitely diversified aggregate 
of circumstances so minute as severally to seem trivial or 
accidental ; yet the consistent theist will always occupy 
an impregnable position in maintaining that the entire 
series, in each and every one of its incidents, is an imme- 
diate manifestation of the creative action of God. 

" The business of science is simply to ascertain in what 
manner phenomena coexist with each other, or follow 
each other ; and the only kind of explanation with which 



200 THE THEISTIC ARGUMENT. 

it can properly deal is that which refers one set of phe- 
nomena to another set. In pursuing this, its legitimate 
business, science does not trench on the province of the- 
ology in any way, and there is no conceivable occasion 
for any conflict between the two. In short, no matter 
how far the scientific interpretation of nature may be car- 
ried, it can reveal to us only the fact that the workings of 
the ultimate existence of which nature is the phenomenal 
expression, are different from what they were supposed 
to be by uninstructed thinkers of former times." ^ 

1 Fiske, Darwinism, pp. 7, 54. 



LECTURE VII. 

IMMANENT FINALITY. 

From the order everywhere displayed in nature 
we have been forced to recognize Intelligence, and 
this conviction has been further strengthened by the 
manifest adjustment of means to ends, from which 
we infer design. We have also seen that the theory 
of evolution, instead of detracting from the force of 
this argument, really supplies it with a more com- 
plex and elaborate basis. But having established 
this, we now come in contact with a different ques- 
tion, a question which we can only answer by turn- 
ing our investigation from the outer to the inner 
world. The problem is this. Admitting that we 
have, in the order of nature, the evidence of intelli- 
gence, and that we have, in its manifold arrange- 
ments and adaptations, the proof of design, still what 
is there that compels us to believe that this intel- 
ligence is anything distinct from nature herself ? 
What authorizes us to argue from the fact of finality 
to the cause of finality } Because nature has ends, 
are we, therefore, justified in concluding that there 
is an intelligent cause distinct from nature which has 
consciously coordinated its several parts with refer- 
ence to a final purpose ? 

This brings us directly face to face with the most 
subtle objection with which Theism has to deal. 
The doctrine of evolution, perfectly consistent with 



202 THE THEISTIC ARGUMENT. 

Theism when considered as a mere hypothesis of 
the method of creation, totally changes its aspect 
when we regard nature as a great living force, realiz- 
ing itself by its own inherent energy, and in accord- 
ance with its own laws. Now evolution is no longer 
a mere method which a Supreme Intelligence has 
chosen, for the sake of carrying out its own pur- 
poses, but becomes a process through which nature 
passes, by an inner necessity, and without the direc- 
tion of any superintending mind. Those who hold 
this view admit intelHgence, but not an intelligence 
distinct from, only an intelligence identical with, na- 
ture. They admit the fact of adjustment of means 
to ends, but it is not an adjustment planned and 
arranged by a power in whose hands the forces of 
nature were mere plastic agencies, but an adjust- 
ment resulting from the presence in nature of a uni- 
versal energy, working without any conscious volition 
towards harmonious and rational results. 

This mode of looking at nature has possessed, in 
all ages, a singular charm. We trace its presence 
in the most widely separated regions, and with races 
whose moral and intellectual characteristics seem to 
stand in the sharpest contrast. It has had a wide 
foothold among the dreamy nations of the East ; it 
swayed with almost unsuspected presence the posi- 
tive religious faith of the Middle Ages ; it has cu- 
riously interwoven itself with the philosophy, the 
poetry, the science of modern times. It has been 
understood in the widest variety of senses, and has 
been made to include the loftiest as well as most 
groveling forms of speculative opinion. The gross- 
est schools of modern materialism have sheltered 
themselves beneath its name, and by some of the 



IMMANENT FINALITY. 203 

warmest defenders of Christian truth it has been 
identified with the teachings of the most spiritual of 
the apostles. It is a remarkable fact, that the gos- 
pel, which sternly opposed every form of ancient ma- 
terialism, seems to have given a new impulse to thfs 
method of interpreting the external universe. The 
early church abounded with schools whose specula- 
tion was colored by this subtle belief. 

Any precise definition of a doctrine held in so 
many forms it would be difficult to give. In general^ 
this mode of explaining the existence of the universe 
may be stated as the theory " which regards all 
finite things as merely aspects, modifications, or 
parts of one eternal and self-existent being ; which 
views all material objects, and all particular minds, 
as necessarily derived from a single infinite sub- 
stance. This one absolute substance, this one all- 
comprehensive being, it calls God. Thus God, ac- 
cording to it, is all that is, and nothing is which is 
not essentially included in, or which has not been 
necessarily evolved out of God." ^ 

This theory is the opposite of theism. While the- 
ism views the Supreme Being as existing alone and 
apart from the world, this, on the contrary, denies 
that God and nature either do or can exist apart. It 
regards God without nature, as a cause without effect, 
or as a substance without qualities, and nature with- 
out God, as an effect without a cause, or as qualities 
without a substance. God and nature are conceived 
as eternally and necessarily coexistent, the contrasted 
phases of an indissoluble unity, the inner and the 
outer sides of the same eternal whole.^ 

1 Prof. R. Flint, Anti-Theistic Theories, p. 336. 
^ Anti-Theistic Theories, p. 339. 



204 '^^^ THEISTIC ARGUMENT. 

This doctrine has been rendered familiar to us by 
our enlarged knowledge of the religions and philos- 
ophy of the East. While it is an error to regard 
India as the fountain-head of this wide-spread ten- 
dency, we find it nowhere so deeply rooted. The 
rich literature of this mysterious land furnishes us 
with the most striking illustrations of it. In the 
Indian religion Brahma was conceived as the uni- 
versal life in which the world is absorbed, and from 
which it issues. All subsequent Hindoo specula- 
tion evolved this idea. Thus, in the later Vedanta 
philosophy, the central doctrine is that there is only 
one real being, of which all material things and 
finite minds are simple emanations. Whoever 
knows Brahma becomes Brahma. But it is not only 
on the banks of the Ganges that we find these theo- 
ries prevailing. All the pre-Socratic schools of Greek 
philosophy, with one exception, that of Democritus, 
were more or less inclined to the same opinion. Par- 
menides, with his doctrine of absolute being, can 
hardly be distinguished from the Hindoo thinkers. 
And even Heraclitus, asserting a different doctrine, 
that the universe is merely a process of incessant 
change, arrived at the same result. 

In modern times the head and front of this an- 
cient theory has been Benedict Spinoza, who in his 
"Ethics" summed up, from a great variety of sources, 
and elaborated with unrivaled precision, the doctrine 
which from his hands may be said to have received 
its final form. Assuming that philosophy was a 
purely deductive science, its truths needing only to 
be analyzed and demonstrated like the propositions 
of geometry, Spinoza identified the order of knowl- 
edge with the order of existence. Beginning with 



IMMANENT FINALITY. 205 

a definition of God as the first and self-existent be- 
ing, he next proceeded to prove the identity of the 
two ideas of God and of substance ; and from this 
his whole system flowed. God is conceived as think- 
ing substance when apprehended by the mind under 
the attribute of thought, and as extended substance 
when conceived under the attribute of extension ; 
but thinking substance and extended substance are 
not two substances distinct from one another; but 
the one substance apprehended by the mind of man, 
now under this attribute and now under that. The 
universe, including not alone sun and stars and 
earth, but all human intelligence, all human experi- 
ence, all human history, are but modes of the abso- 
lute, man's soul a' divine thought, his body a divine 
extension. 

In the long line of seekers after truth, who have 
set themselves resolutely and patiently to solve the 
great enigmas of life, there is no one to whom we 
turn with more sincere respect and with deeper in- 
terest, than to the Jew Spinoza. It is a strange cir- 
cumstance, that the race, distinguished above all 
others for its stern and uncompromising theism, 
should have produced the founder of modern pan- 
theism. The scanty record preserved of his humble 
career presents his private character in the most 
admirable and winning light. The only account we 
have of him we owe to a clergyman who distorted 
his theories, but who could detect no flaw in his 
blameless character. Driven in wrath from the re- 
ligious communion in which he was born and edu- 
cated, disinherited, left when still a mere boy in pen- 
ury to seek his livelihood, he sought, in his own lan- 
guage, to substitute certainty for conjecture, and by 



206 THE THEISTIC ARGUMENT. 

placing himself in contact with the bare facts of life, 
to find where the real good of man actually lay. He 
refused pensions, legacies, and calls to honorable 
positions, which might in the least lessen his per- 
sonal independence. He chose to earn a scanty 
subsistence by grinding glasses for optical instru- 
ments, rather than have anything interfere with his 
honest quest for truth. 

No great thinker has been more variously esti- 
mated. Denounced on the one hand as an atheist, 
and as a teacher of doctrines subversive of all mo- 
rality, on the other hand he has been eulogized as a 
Christian, and represented as a "god-intoxicated" 
man. The most severe and methodical of reason- 
ers, clothing his thoughts in words as precise as the 
language of geometry, has been identified with tran- 
scendental mystics. But with whatever difference 
of opinion respecting his views, there is no question 
as to the deep mark he has cut in modern thought. 
Not so much his precise method and his specific con- 
clusions, as his general habit of thinking, has given 
him his enduring influence. Few but professed stu- 
dents now open his " Ethics " ; but the underlying 
spirit which pervades his ethics has worked itself 
widely into the modern mind. It appeared in the 
pantheistic philosophy of Hegel and Schelling, and 
in the pantheistic Christianity of Herder and Schlei- 
ermacher. It possessed an irresistible fascination for 
the penetrating intellect of Goethe. In an anecdote 
which has been preserved, relating to his very last 
days, we have a striking illustration of the keen in- 
terest with which the great poet watched the devel- 
opment of these new theories of nature. 

To this mode of viewing the external universe 



IMMANENT FINALITY. 20/ 

may be traced some of the most remarkable scien- 
tific conceptions of modern times. From Schelling's 
doctrine of nature, a doctrine set forth in lofty and 
eloquent language, and illustrated from a wide range 
of scientific knowledge, came the now familiar the- 
ories of vegetable morphology, the homologies of the 
skeleton, and even the later hypothesis of the origin 
of species. This new philosophy was a protest 
against the lower materialism of the last century, 
and received an impulse from the powerful reaction 
against the ideas of the eighteenth century which 
the nineteenth has shown in so many ways. Nature 
was now looked upon, no longer as apart from God, 
but as the agent and manifestation of the absolute. 
It was viewed as one organic whole, independent 
and self-sustained, a system of forces and agencies 
acting upon and limiting each other, yet all derived 
from one original source and all working by one 
universal law. The individual was simply a momen- 
tary bubble floating along on this everlasting flood. 
The rapid progress of the physical sciences helped 
the tendency ; for there was a fascination in thus 
giving variety to physical facts by speculative ideas, 
and binding the mysterious phenomena of nature 
into a living organism. 

But, after all, the subtle influence of this theory 
was made effective less as a clearly conceived sci- 
entific system, than as a mode of looking at things. 
What made it popular was its appeal to that poetic 
instinct which exists to a greater or less extent in 
all of us. We have it nowhere more adequately 
embodied than in the famihar lines of Wordsworth : 

" I have felt 
A sense sublime 



208 THE THE IS TIC ARGUMENT. 

Of something far more deeply interfused, , 

Whose dwelling is the light of setting suns, 

And the round ocean, and the living air, 

And the blue sky, and in the mind of man ; 

A motion and a spirit that impels 

All thinking things, all objects of all thought, 

And rolls through all things. Therefore am I still 

A lover of the meadows and the woods 

And mountains, and of all that we behold 

From this green earth ; of all the mighty world 

Of ear and eye, both what they half create 

And what perceive ; well pleased to recognize 

In nature, and the language of the sense. 

The anchor of my purest thoughts, . . . and soul 

Of all my moral being." i 

In this passage we have the key-note of a large 
part of our modern speculative natural science. 

Starting with this conception, all that we have 
claimed as evidence of mind, and even of finality, 
in nature is readily conceded, but it is argued that 
this mind is in nature, and not above it or distinct 
from it. That there is everywhere in the external 
universe proof of intelligence is not for a moment 
doubted, but the question is asked, Why should 
this intelligence be conceived of as apart from na- 
ture ; why should we be constrained to go out of 
nature to account for its origin .-* The ordinary ar- 
gument of design, it is claimed, proceeds upon a 
superficial analogy. There are, it is true, certain 
products of nature which at first glance seem to re- 
semble the works of man, but this resemblance is 
only in appearance. The works of man are prod- 
ucts of an intelligence distinct and apart ; the 
pieces of a machine, for example, are strangers to 
each other, and the unity and motion that they 
possess are impressed upon them from without ; 

1 [Lines on Tint em Abbey.\ 



IMMANENT FINALITY. 209 

but in the products of nature the force is internal, 
and the end realizes itself. Organized structures, 
such as we are and see around us, are not mere 
machines, but are always endowed with an inner 
energy, and possess a formative force. 

The distinction here insisted on between the 
works of man and the products of nature is too ob- 
vious to be denied. A moment's glance is enough 
to show that the operations of nature are distin- 
guished by three characteristic signs, which are 
never found in any human works : — 

1. In nature the organized being has a formative 
energy, in virtue of which the original germ succes- 
sively assimilates all the particles which it borrows 
from the external world, and which constitute its 
growth. 

2. It is endowed with a reparative powder, by vir- 
tue of which it repairs any injury that it may suffer, 
and so effectually that it is a maxim of the healing 
art that nature is the best physician. 

3. It has a reproductive power, by which the in- 
dividual is perpetuated from one generation to an- 
other. 

These characteristics draw so broad a line be- 
tween the artificial works of man and the sponta- 
neous products of nature that it is evident that any 
analogical reasoning from one to another can ^ have 
no force whatever. 

From this distinction has been drawn the theory 
which we are now considering, the theory of what 
is termed immanent finality. The first hint of it was 
given in an acute distinction of Kant between what 
he termed external and internal finality. In the 
former, things are never considered as means, but 
14 



210 THE THEISTIC ARGUMENT. 

in the latter all the parts are reciprocally means and 
ends. As afterwards developed and stated by 
Hegel, the doctrine of immanent finality included 
three fundamental points : — 

1. There are final causes in nature, and not only 
so, but the final cause is the sole veritable cause, 
for it alone has in itself the reason of its own de- 
termination. The domain of efficient causes is 
simply that of blind necessity. 

2. It is not, however, necessary to conceive the 
final cause in the form which it assumes in human 
consciousness, that is as an anticipated representa- 
tion of the end. There are two ways of attaining 
an end : one voluntary and the result of conscious 
choice, like that in man, the other rational but un- 
conscious, the activity of nature. 

3. The finality of nature is immanent and inter- 
nal, where the cause, the means, and the end are 
simply three terms of one process, the cause at- 
taining its end without going out of itself, by self- 
development. 

The physical theology of the eighteeenth cen- 
tury, for the most part, conceived of the supreme 
cause as wholly distinct from the universe, framing 
the world with conscious design, much in the same 
way as an architect fashions a house. Making all 
allowance for the imperfection of human language 
when attempting to represent the divine operations 
under analogies derived from man's works, it must 
still be acknowledged that the reproach was, to a 
great extent, well founded. Paley's famous illustra- 
tion of the watch carries with it a mechanical con- 
ception of the divine working, though it was far 
from his thought to suggest any such idea. The 



IMMANENT FINALITY. 2 1 1 

argument of design was founded on external final- 
ity, that is, on utility, and this explains why it was 
so much abused, and at length brought to such gen- 
eral contempt. We certainly owe this debt to Spi- 
noza and to Schelling, and it is a debt that we need 
not fear to acknowledge, that they have given us a 
far more worthy conception of the divine working, 
and supplied us with a far more satisfactory theory 
of the relation of the spiritual and the material uni- 
verse. Incomplete and unsatisfactory as was their 
theory, it has served to build something far better 
than the doctrine it destroyed. 

The theory of immanent finality, like the theory 
of evolution, contains nothing that of necessity con- 
tradicts the theistic conception of a supreme cause. 
In either case the fact of antagonism has been far 
too hastily assumed. A little reflexion will show 
that such antagonism has really no existence. Im- 
manence and transcendence do not exclude each 
other. Those who accept one view are not logically 
required to reject the other. A transcendent cause 
and an immanent cause are simply different sides of 
the same fact. For the conception of a transcendent 
cause, if that cause is at the same time recognized 
as a cause ever present and operative, carries with 
it, of necessity, the notion of immanence. Abso- 
lute transcendence would be such entire separation 
of the supreme cause from the actual creation that 
there would no longer be any bond of connection 
between them, and the most pronounced theist has 
never for a moment dreamed that the relation of 
God to the world was of this kind. To assert this 
would be, in effect, not to assert theism, but to as- 
sert atheism ; it would be the most complete exclu< 



212 THE THEISTIC ARGUMENT. 

sion of the infinite from the sphere and knowledge 
of the finite. 

On the other hand, an absolute immanence would 
be such utter blending and confounding of God and 
the world that cause and effect, ground and phe- 
nomenon, absolute and relative, would be terms no 
longer possessing any meaning. But those who as- 
sert most emphatically the divine immanence have 
never gone to the extreme of asserting this. Even 
accepting the ancient hypothesis of a soul of the 
world, the distinction between God and the world 
would still remain. Hence we are fully justified in 
the assertion that the doctrine of a supreme cause, 
above nature and distinct from nature, does not in 
any way exclude the notion of a cause at the same 
time immanent in nature ; and that the idea of na- 
ture as endowed with an internal activity, and work- 
ing to an internal finality, contains nothing that ex- 
cludes a supra-mundane cause. In other words, the 
supreme cause may be, at the same time, within and 
outside of nature. Experience goes strongly to 
confirm this view, for wherever a theistic faith has 
been most earnest it has instinctively allied itself 
with the practical persuasion that the Supreme Be- 
ing was not remote from the world, but was work- 
ing in all things and through all things, and bring- 
ing all things to pass. 

But, though it may be conceded that there is no 
necessary contradiction between the true concep- 
tions of a mind above nature, and a mind working 
in and through nature, yet the question still remains 
* Having the evident proof of one why need we infer 
the other } ' Order and finality are, as we have seen, 
facts in nature, but when we undertake to reason 



IMMANENT FINALITY. - 213 

from these facts to their cause we pass to a wholly 
different sphere. What right have we to conclude 
that the finality of nature is conscious and voluntary, 
like the purposes formed by man ? Those who deny 
that the finality of nature is the result of any con- 
scious choice appeal to the instinct of the lower 
animals. Instinct is the activity, which without 
conscious purpose, achieves a definite end. The 
difference between the rational man and the irra- 
tional brute is that the latter does not know his ends 
as ends. The beaver builds his house with no plan 
before him ; the bee, without calculation, constructs 
his cells in accordance with the most refined geo- 
metrical laws. So far as we can ascertain, there is 
no conscious intelligent purpose in the marvelous 
structures which rival the most elaborate creations 
of human skill. 

Thus instinct presents us with the type of uncon- 
scious finality, and by showing its possibility at the 
same time furnishes us, it is claimed, with the true 
explanation of external nature. Conscious purpose, 
intelligent choice, such as we see displayed in man, is 
after all but one form of finality, and by no means its 
highest and absolute form. Man, limited in his range, 
limited in his powers, works, with a preconceived pur- 
pose, towards a definite end ; but nature works on a 
larger scale and according to a different rule. Yet, 
according to those who take this view, there is no 
contradiction whatever in admitting that this uncon- 
scious, plastic force of nature creates works, which, 
to the human understanding, appear as means con- 
formed to an end. Unconscious adjustment of means 
to ends implies, therefore, no contradiction ; and the 
denial of a personal, intelligent creator consciously 



214 THE THEISTIC ARGUMENT. 

accomplishing his ends, no more involves a denial 
of the order and adjustments of nature, than a denial 
of the harmony of the human organs follows from 
the doctrine that plants and animals are formed by 
an organic, plastic force. The order springs from a 
tendency in nature. 

This theory of unconscious finality, first suggested 
by Hegel, has been carried to its extreme by later 
writers. Thus Schopenhauer writes : *' The admira- 
tion and astonishment which are wont to seize us 
in view of the infinite finality manifested in the con- 
struction of the organized being, rests at bottom on 
the natural but false supposition that this agreement 
of the parts with each other and with the whole of 
the organism, as well as with its external ends, is 
realized by the same principle that enables us to 
conceive and judge it, and consequently by means 
of representation ; that, in a word, as it exists for 
the understanding so it exists by the understanding. 
No doubt, we can realize nothing regular nor con- 
formed to an end, except under the condition of the 
conception of that end ; but we are not warranted 
to transfer these conditions to nature, which is itself 
a prius of all intellect, and whose action is absolutely 
distinct from ours. It brings to pass what appears 
to us so wonderfully teleological, without reflection 
and without concept of the end, for it is without rep- 
resentation, a phenomenon of secondary origin." ^ 
Nature, he adds, has given us a brilliant comment 
on its productive activity in the artistic instinct of 
the lower animals. 

Building in the main on the same foundations 
as Schopenhauer, and arriving often at results that 

1 Die Welt als Wille, t. ii. c. xxvi. See Janet, p. 378. 



IMMANENT FINALITY. 21 5 

seem identical, Hartmann has somewhat modified the 
view. Without adopting the conception of intelli- 
gent finality, he yet opens a way of returning to it. 
Schopenhauer had completely separated the will from 
that which was presented to consciousness. The 
presentation, in his view, was wholly secondary. 
The unconscious purposes of the will could be com- 
pletely realized without it. But, on the contrary, 
Hartmann strongly asserts the necessary connection 
between these two. A mere unconscious tendency 
he terms but the empty form of will, and as empty 
form is always pure abstraction, actual volition can 
exist only in relation to the actual cognition by the 
mind of something present or future. In other words, 
no one can really will without willing to accomplish 
some definite end. But, while thus affirming that 
the will cannot exist as will without intelligence, he 
maintains that this presentation is at first uncon- 
scious. The aim of his philosophy is to show that 
there is omnipresent in nature one will and intelli- 
gence, acting in unconscious union with one another, 
by whose agency all phenomena may be accounted 
for. 

As a necessary preliminary step towards proving 
this presence, throughout all nature, of one will and 
intellect, distinct from what appears in the mind of 
man, Hartmann is obliged to analyze the idea of 
purpose or final cause, and to show that physiological 
and psychological processes, indeed all the phenom- 
ena of nature, cannot be accounted for in a satisfac- 
tory manner, save on the hypothesis that they were 
first arranged, and are ever after directed and kept in 
activity by one governing purpose ; in other words, 
that we find everywhere in the universe the evi- 



2l6 THE THE IS TIC ARGUMENT. 

dences of intelligent design. He argues that the 
conception of final cause by no means excludes that 
of efficient cause, but rather presupposes it, and that 
one could not be carried out except through ths 
other. But an intelligent will is surely one efficient 
cause among others. Thus, while in the structure 
of the eye we have the evidence that many physical 
agencies have cooperated in building up that com- 
plex and nicely adjusted organ, yet these agencies 
would not so have harmoniously cooperated had they 
not been combined and directed by an intelligent 
will. Yet the eye is only one out of innumerable 
instances that go to multiply the probability that the 
order of the universe is due to a designing intellect 
and will. 

Still, according to Hartmann, in all these manifold 
and wonderful adaptations of the organic world we 
see only the working of unconscious intellect and 
will. In proof of this, he calls attention to the inde- 
pendent or self-regulating functions of the ganglia, 
or lower nervous centres, connected with the spinal 
cord and the sympathetic system. These, without 
any communication with the brain, and therefore un- 
consciously, maintain complicated movements nicely 
adjusted to each other. In all of these, too, a cer- 
tain purpose is evident, and in the more complex 
movements this purpose is strikingly apparent. The 
conscious mind knows nothing of these movements ; 
they are regulated by a power distinct from our 
proper selves. Even what are regarded as the vol- 
untary movements of the limbs and muscles cannot 
be effected without the cooperation of the uncon- 
scious. I simply will the movements of my hand in 
executing a piece of music upon the piano, without 



IMMANENT FINALITY. 21/ 

being in the least conscious of the complicated ap- 
paratus of nerves, muscles, and tendons by which 
the movements are executed, without even knowing 
what part of the brain must be touched to bring all 
this apparatus into play. Consciousness does not, 
in fact, belong to the essence, but only to the phe- 
nomenal manifestation of the individual. 

The direct answer which at once suggests itself 
to all this is that, granting the fact of this uncon- 
scious activity in nature, why look to this alone for 
the explanation of nature's processes } To solve 
the great problem of life we need to utilize our 
very highest resources ; we ought to look for the 
solution we are in search of, not in the lowest, but 
in the highest form of life and being. Why turn to 
the instinct of brutes, about which we know so little, 
when we have directly before us the intelligence of 
man, of which we know, through our consciousness, 
so much t Granting that instinct, as Schopenhauer 
asserts, is a commentary on creative activity, yet 
is it a commentary any easier to read or to com- 
prehend than the intelligence of man t There are 
three distinct modes of action of which nature fur- 
nishes us the illustration. These three are, mechan- 
ism, instinct, and intelligence. Of these three we 
dismiss the first as yielding no help in the problem 
we have to solve. Of the remaining two instinct is 
confessedly the most obscure, and the least under- 
stood ; why should we turn to this alone for an ex- 
planation of the method by which the purposes of 
nature are accomplished ? 

But the hypothesis of instinctive finality not only 
compels us to appeal to a more obscure class of 
facts, it really presents much greater difiiculties 



2l8 THE THEISTIC ARGUMENT. 

than the hypothesis of intelligence. For, on this 
theory, the question still remains, how can a cause 
attain an end by appropriate means without hav- 
ing either known that end, or selected those means ? 
Out of an infinite number of directions in which 
the cause might have acted, what limited it to that 
one direction which alone would produce the de- 
sired result ? If, in the very nature of the cause, 
every direction but one was excluded, then the idea 
of finality is set aside. We have only left the neces- 
sary determination of Spinoza. In short, while the 
doctrine of immanent finality, that is, the theory of 
an intelligence working in nature, presents no diffi- 
culties, and does not stand in any antagonism with 
the conception of a supreme cause distinct from 
nature, when we proceed to affirm that this imma- 
nent finality is unconscious, we are at once involved 
in difficulties and contradictions. For, if the final- 
ity displayed in the universe only exists, as Scho- 
penhauer asserts, for intelligence, but not by intelli- 
gence, it is pure illusion, and in reality does not exist 
at all. 

To answer the question before us, what reason 
we have for inferring that the source of the intelli- 
gence displayed in the external universe must be 
sought, not in nature, but in a sphere above nature, 
and transcending nature, we must turn from the 
phenomena of matter to the phenomena of mind. 
Only let it be observed that our object here is not 
to repeat the old argument of Locke, that the ex- 
istence of finite intelligence is a fact that can only 
be adequately explained by going back to an in- 
finite intelligence as its cause, since mind must 
have had its origin in mind, but simply to make use 



IMMANENT FINALITY. 219 

of the facts of consciousness, and of the processes 
of human intelHgence, to explain the facts of ex- 
ternal nature, and the processes of organic life. In 
other words, we are making use of the phenomena 
of mind for the purpose of completing and perfect- 
ing the argument from order and design. The 
force of this argument depends upon its connection 
with the facts of human consciousness. It fails to 
satisfy unless combined with this additional proof 
derived from an independent source. The validity 
and impressiveness both depend on the support 
which it derives from the knowledge of ourselves 
as conscious and voluntary agents. 

We have a perfect right to make this appeal, for 
the facts of human consciousness are as strictly and 
truly facts as any of the phenomena of the external 
world. It is true that Comte and the early posi- 
tivists denied the right of psychology to be re- 
garded as an independent science. According to 
his view, there could be no science worthy of the 
name founded upon the observation and comparison 
of states of consciousness, and psychology could 
only claim attention as a department of biology. 
That is, the study of mind was simply the study of 
nervous phenomena. The legitimate conclusion 
from this postulate was a blank materialism. The 
intellectual limitations of this writer are nowhere 
more conspicuously shown than in a doctrine which 
would reduce to nonsense the greatest achievements 
of human thought. That there is such a fact in na- 
ture as mind, that its laws may be unfolded, that its 
operations may be traced, that it furnishes us with 
a basis of scientific reasoning as evident, as certain, 
as comprehensive, as anything supplied by the ex- 



220 THE THEISTIC ARGUMENT 

ternal universe, is a principle respecting which the 
most opposite schools have no dispute. Leibnitz 
and Kant and Mill and Spencer here stood upon 
the same ground. 

So far as our present argument is concerned we 
do not need to discuss the various conflicting the- 
ories respecting the nature or origin of mind. 
These have no direct bearing on the existence and 
operation of mind as a fact of human conscious- 
ness. Intellectual processes, in themselves consid- 
ered, are as real as gravitation or electricity, and it 
is with these processes alone that we are here con- 
cerned. It is, however, important to observe that, 
however close and intricate the relations of mind to 
organized and living matter, modern physical science 
has not yet advanced a single step in the direction 
of proving that they are not radically and essen- 
tially distinct. We may concede to the materialist 
that we know the phenomena of mind only as man- 
ifested through a material organization, and that, so 
far as our experience can inform us, no mind has 
ever existed except in connection with a material 
frame. We may concede that the powers and fac- 
ulties of the mind are always arranged in close cor- 
respondence with the energies and functions of this 
material structure. We may concede that mind is 
always dependent on some material organization for 
the exercise of many of its activities, yet the inher- 
ent and radical distinction between the two reveals 
itself to the most superficial survey. 

Mr. Huxley, indeed, tells us that " all vital action 
may be the result of the molecular forces of the pro- 
toplasm which displays it. And if so, it must be 
true in the same sense, and to the same extent, that 



IMMANENT FINALITY. 221 

the thoughts to which I am now giving utterance, 
and your thoughts regarding them, are the expres- 
sion of molecular changes in that matter of life 
which is the source of our other vital phenomena." 
And again, " as the electric force, the light waves, 
and the nerve vibrations, caused by the impact of 
the light waves on the retina, are all expressions of 
the molecular changes which are taking place in the 
elements of the battery, so consciousness is in the 
same sense an expression of the molecular changes 
which take place in that nervous matter which is 
the organ of consciousness." ^ Yet Mr. Huxley 
finds it necessary to recognize a clear distinction 
between brain -movements and thoughts, and he 
indorses the opinion of Tyndall that " the passage 
from the physics of the brain to the correspond- 
ing thoughts of consciousness is unthinkable." We 
cannot reason. Dr. Tyndall declares emphatically, 
from physical to mental phenomena. How these 
two classes of facts are connected we cannot tell. 
*' The chasm between them " still remains for us 
" intellectually impassable." ^ 

Dr. Carpenter has put this distinction clearly in a 
passage which I will quote : — 

" The connection between mind and body is such that 
the actions of each have, in their present state of existence 
.... a definite causal relation to those of the other, so 
that the actions of our minds, in so far as they are carried 
on without any interference from our will, may be consid- 
ered as functions of the brain. On the other hand, in 
the control which the will can exert over the direction of 
the thoughts, and over the motive force exerted by the 

1 Physical Basis of Life {Lay Sermons, etc., N. Y., 187 1), p. 138. 

2 Address at Norwich (1868). 



222 THE THEISTIC ARGUMENT. 

feelings, we have the evidence of a new and independent 
Power, which may either oppose or concur with the auto- 
matic tendencies, and which, according as it is habitually- 
exerted, tends to render the ego a free agent. And truly 
in the existence of this Power, which is capable of thus 
regulating the very highest of these operations that are 
causally related to corporeal states, we find a better evi- 
dence than we gain from the study of any other part of 
our psychical nature, that there is an entity wherein man's 
nobility essentially consists, which does not depend for 
its existence on any play of physical or vital forces, but 
which makes these forces subservient to its determina- 
tions. It is, in fact, in virtue of the will that we are not 
mere thinking automata." ^ 

This does not in the least explain the connection 
of mind and body, but simply asserts, as an indis- 
putable fact, their inherent and radical distinction. 
The various explanations which have been proposed 
on the side of physical science, of the relation be- 
tween the physical and mental processes, may be 
reduced to three : — 

1. The theory that mental acts are distinct from 
nerve-changes, yet in some way products of them. 

2. The theory which conceives the alliance be- 
tween mental and physical processes to be so inti- 
mate that they are not successive and distinct, but 
strictly concomitant and inseparable acts, forming, 
in reality, but one series with two sides. 

3. The extreme theory which converts this insep- 
arable concomitance into absolute identity. In this 
view matter and mind are one. The statement of 
the theories is enough to show that physical science 
is wholly incompetent to deal with the problem. In 

1 Mental Physiology, pp. 26, 27. 



IMMANENT FINALITY. 223 

short, the only legitimate attitude of physical science 
towards mental phenomena is to ignore them alto- 
gether. For if we proceed to the logical extreme 
of identifying mind and matter, it virtually amounts 
to saying that the material universe, with its phenom- 
ena, has no existence. 

Nor are we any more debarred from appealing to 
the facts of consciousness by any theory of the ori- 
gin of mind. What we have to do with, in our pres- 
ent argument, is mind as it now exists, and as its 
workings are revealed to us in our own conscious 
personality, not with mind in its primordial begins 
nings. Suppose it could be shown, as is claimed by 
Mr. Spencer, that what we are conscious of as intel- 
ligence is simply the climax of a series of existences, 
rising from one another in an orderly and progres- 
sive gradation, each one preparing the way for the 
next, and all at last represented in that crowning and 
consummate result, — the mind of man. According 
to this view, the lowest form of matter obeyed only 
mechanical laws. The particles were held together 
by cohesive attraction. In the series next above 
appeared bodies endowed with chemical properties 
and combinations. Still higher, were shown the 
crystalline arrangement of matter. Next appeared 
the lowest types of organized existence, and these, 
under the requisite conditions, developed from veg- 
etable to animal life, and so at length, in connection 
with more perfectly and delicately organized struc- 
tures, the phenomena of mind began to appear, re- 
quiring for their perfect manifestation all the lower 
forms of life. 

But conceding, for the moment, the possibility of 
this daring hypothesis, the appeal which we now 



224 THE THE I STIC ARGUMENT. 

are making to the facts of consciousness would not 
be, in the least, invalidated. Even going to the full 
extent of assuming that mind, by this process, is 
evolved from matter, inconceivable as such a suppo- 
sition must seem, the real existence of mind as mind 
would not be disproved. To those who believe in a 
first cause, and who recognize design in the works of 
nature, this would simply be a method of creative 
action. Suppose we were able to trace " the myriad 
stages of the composition of mind from the reflex 
contractions of a rudimentary fin, up to the general- 
izations of an Aristotle or a Newton," matter and 
mind, as they are now presented to us, would remain 
equally distinct, and as the last and crowning result 
of the long process, mind would b6 more than ever 
the source of our highest knowledge of the method 
of creation, and from the phenomena of mind, with 
far more assurance than from the phenomena of 
matter, might we reason respecting the nature and 
operations of that supreme cause from which the 
phenomena of matter and of mind alike proceed. 
Man would remain the highest and most perfect ex- 
pression of the method of nature. 

In now passing, as I have shown that we are fully 
justified in doing, from the phenomena of matter to 
the phenomena of mind, there is one truth that we 
need to keep clearly in view, — that we do not pass 
from the region of law. We have seen, in an ear- 
lier stage of our discussion, that the universal reign 
of law is the one great fact that we are everywhere 
forced to recognize. Its presence is more apparent 
in the world without us. It is first suggested to us 
in the uniform motion of the heavenly bodies. It is 
the primitive and common speech that day every- 



IMMANENT FINALITY. 22$ 

where utters unto day. But science has taught us 
that not alone the regular and uniform occurrences 
of nature, but what seem, at first sight, its most sur- 
prising and inexplicable phenomena, are all corre- 
lated under the same principle, and that the further 
we push our search the more evident does it become 
that one single force manifests itself under all these 
manifold and changing aspects. The phenomena of 
mind are more obscure : they inevitably lead us back 
to a more remote region of inquiry ; yet here, too, 
as we advance, we find facts ranging themselves 
under an observed order, and cannot doubt that the 
chain of causes and effects is equally indissoluble. 

This principle is, in fact, the necessary postulate 
of all mental science. All that we term science is 
simply the tracing of laws, and the combination of 
manifold and various laws under a common princi- 
ple. So that there can be no science of mind unless 
there be an observed order of mental phenomena, 
and unless these phenomena are capable of being 
reduced under some common principle. One palpa- 
ble form in which this subjection of mind to law is 
presented to us is in the close connection of mental 
phenomena with our physical organism. In the ex- 
ercise of the higher faculties of our reason we seem, 
indeed, to be wholly independent of our bodies. We 
pass, at will, from one mental state to another ; we 
revive trains of thought long buried in the past ; in 
imagination we surround ourselves with ideal scenes ; 
we pass on to the distant future, we fly with wings, 
fleeter than those of light itself, to the remotest 
bounds of space ; we seem free from dependence 
upon any material organism ; but the instant that 
fatigue or disease comes, we realize how closely, 
15 



226 THE THEISTIC ARGUMENT. 

after all, we are bound up with the material condi- 
tions of our being. At one moment we are in the 
heavens, at the next we are creatures of the earth. 

In proceeding to analyze, more closely, these men- 
tal phenomena, we are brought into contact with dif- 
ferent classes of facts. We have already seen that 
mental are distinguished from physical phenomena 
by differences far greater than those which mark 
mere physical phenomena. It is a difference wholly 
distinct and peculiar. Matter, as we all know, may 
pass through many transformations ; it may assume 
many shapes ; it may disguise itself under very dif- 
ferent masks, and may seem to perform very differ- 
ent functions, yet, after all, it never ceases to be an 
object of sense. No experiment has ever yet suc- 
ceeded in converting a material substance into an 
idea ; it remains, after all its protean changes, some- 
thing extended, divisible, movable, an object of 
sense, qualities which pure thought never possesses. 
Those, even, who assert most strongly that matter 
and mind are but two sides of a double-faced unity, 
have never succeeded in showing that these con- 
trasted qualities can cohere in a single substance, 
that thought can be combined with extension or 
weight. We have also seen, from the acknowledg- 
ments of the foremost men of science, that no in- 
vestigation of molecular changes in the brain has 
advanced us a step towards explaining mental states. 
They are as inexplicable as ever. 

But there are other facts revealed in conscious- 
ness which we have not yet considered. The first 
of these is the mysterious unity of consciousness, 
which many regard as the most invincible argument 
against materialism. How can this be explained 



\ 



IMMANENT FINALITY. 22/ 

if the mind be regarded as nothing but successive 
physical states of the brain ? Connected closely with 
this, is the consciousness of personal identity, a fact 
as clearly revealed as the fact of existence itself, and 
amply attested in every moment of our lives, but a 
fact that we seek, in vain, to harmonize with the 
theory that man is merely a material existence, the 
elements and atoms of which are in a state of per- 
petual change. In this consciousness of personal 
identity, the mind distinguishes itself, not only from 
external objects, but just as much from its own 
body, and even from its brain. But, beyond all this, 
— and here is the point at which all along I have 
been aiming to arrive, — the mind is conscious of an 
internal spontaneity. It is not only conscious of 
itself, as distinct from the external world, and from 
its own body, but is no less conscious of itself as an 
active, willing agent, producing results, by its own 
volition, in itself and in the world without. 

And here we are brought face to face with the 
most astonishing and inexplicable fact that nature 
anywhere presents, the phenomena of the human 
will. The existence of this will we need have no 
hesitation in affirming as a fact. The difficult prob- 
lems connected with its nature and mode of oper- 
ation we need not here discuss. That our wills 
should be determined by motives, that in so many 
cases where consciousness assures us that we are 
acting freely we should be governed by underlying 
impulses, of which we have no consciousness, that 
what seem our voluntary actions should, in so many 
instances, follow a course marked out for them by 
conditions over which we had no control, and which 
we even fail to recognize, — all these are aspects of 



228 THE THEISTTC ARGUMENT. 

the question with which we need not here concern 
ourselves. What we have now to do with is voHtion, 
simply as it emerges into consciousness, with the 
will as it reveals itself in the higher processes of 
our being, where we directly know ourselves as act- 
ive and free agents. That, by the exercise of his 
will, man can produce changes in himself, and in 
the external world, is a fact which we need not stop 
to prove. 

It is not at all with the nature or origin of will, 
but simply with its mode of operation that we are 
here dealing. We are conscious of a volition, we 
put forth an effort, — we produce a result, that is 
the simple and familiar chain of facts which we need 
to keep before us. And, in this process, we find the 
highest proof of our personal existence, the supreme 
and ineradicable fact that separates our conscious, 
thinking selves from the physical universe with 
which we are so closely and in so many ways con- 
nected. The phenomenon which we here perceive 
we have no reason for separating from other phe- 
nomena. Whether we study the influence of matter 
upon mind, or the influence of mind upon matter, 
we have no reason for supposing that we are exempt 
from that reign of law which we have recognized as 
everywhere present. Here, as always, we have an 
order of facts, and, like every other order of facts, 
it implies a force, or an arrangement of forces, out 
of which this order has come. This exercise of voli- 
tion, in the accomplishment of a definite purpose, 
with which we are so familiar, is part and parcel of 
the great order and harmony which pervades the 
universe. 

Let us now return to two principles which we have 



\ 



IMMANENT FINALITY. 229 

already discussed, — the principle of causality and 
the doctrine of the conservation of energy. Modern 
science has brought us to the conclusion that the 
phenomena of nature are not simply a series of se- 
quences, not simply an infinite variety of observed 
facts occurring in orderly succession, but that they 
also afford evidence of the presence and constant 
operation of a mysterious power or force. What we 
perceive by the senses are indeed but a series of 
phenomena, and what we term the laws of nature 
are the generalized expression of these facts. But 
this is not the whole. We cannot rest at this point. 
Every change is a revelation, not only of succession, 
but of causal power. No matter where we take our 
stand, no matter whether we contemplate physical 
or mental phenomena, this conviction is forced upon 
us. But what is this mysterious force .? No keen 
scrutiny of science has ever been able to detect it. 
It announces its presence in every change that takes 
place around us, but when we look for it, it hides its 
face from us. The mighty masters of science have 
wrestled with it, yet like the angel who wrestled 
with Jacob, it will not reveal its name. 

But one fact has been established, which ranks as 
one of the greatest discoveries of modern times, that 
all forms of force are convertible among themselves. 
In other words, they are ultimately identical, and are 
endlessly passing and repassing into one another. 
So that, at last, we are brought to the recognition 
of one supreme force, everywhere present, every- 
where acting, the fountain of all changes, pulsating 
in every part, in the grandest, and in the minutest, 
forms of the mighty whole. This force, while end- 
lessly assuming new shapes, is never increased or 



230 THE THEISTIC ARGUMENT. 

lessened ; nothing adds to it, nothing takes from it, 
it never slumbers nor sleeps. In striving to reason 
back to the real nature of this mysterious entity, we 
cannot reach an abstract conce^Dtion by eliminating 
what is peculiar in each of its manifestations, for 
while present in all, it is identified with none. Each 
individual phenomenon is simply its passing shape. 
We must base our inferences respecting it upon the 
highest exhibition of force which nature presents, 
and that is our own will. It is only through the 
consciousness of power within us that we can com- 
prehend power as manifested in the changes of nat- 
ure. It is our own personality that first flashes light 
across the external universe. 

To answer, then, the question whether the intel- 
ligence revealed in nature is simpfy in nature, or 
whether it is an intelligence above nature, and direct- 
ing the processes of nature by its own free deter- 
mination, we must look at the facts revealed within 
ourselves. But, let it not be supposed that this argu- 
ment means that because we are free and independ- 
ent of nature, that therefoi^e the power involved in 
nature is. We have no right to leap to this bold 
conclusion. Some of those who seek in human per- 
sonality the clue to the operation of the supreme 
cause, have urged this argument in the place of any 
other, and have thrown aside as worthless all proof 
derived from a first cause, from the universal order, 
and from finality. To my mind, when thus advanced 
as an independent argument, it does not carry full 
conviction. We cannot thus reason from our own 
consciousness simply to the constitution of the ex- 
ternal universe. For what we regard as our own 
voluntary action may be but part of a universal sys- 



IMMANENT FINALITY. 23 I 

tern, and to infer that the universe results from 
intelligence and freedom because we ourselves are 
intelligent and free is assuming that the laws of 
human nature are universal. We make man the 
measure of all things. 

The force of the foregoing argument is wholly de- 
rived from what has been already proved, — that the 
world had an intelligent cause. What we are now 
seeking to discover is, whether that intelligent cause 
was in nature or above it. And, in answering this 
question, we have a perfect right to reason from the 
highest type of causal power which nature presents 
to us. Those who defend the doctrine of immanent 
finality appeal to instinct as affording the most sat- 
isfactory explanation of the method of nature, and 
hence infer that the finality displayed in nature is 
unconscious; in other words, the brute creation is 
made the type of the supreme causal power that 
frames the world. But the argument which I have 
here presented reasons not from the lowest, but from 
the highest exhibition of causal power revealed in 
nature, and claims that this should be regarded as 
the type of the supreme cause, and hence that the 
power that made the world is intelligent and free. 
The argument proceeds upon the same ground, in 
either case, and hence must be accepted as equally 
legitimate. It is simply reasoning respecting the 
nature of a cause, the existence of which, on both 
sides, is conceded. 

The positive philosophy began with the lowest 
grade of forces, the mechanical, and from that 
ascended to the higher. The more spiritual, and 
more satisfactory, conception of nature to which the 
school of Schelling introduced us, recognized the 



232 THE THE IS TIC ARGUMENT. 

presence of intelligence, but insisted, in the case 
of Schopenhauer and Hartmann, on illustrating the 
operations of that intelligence from the most ob- 
scure processes of mind known to us, the instinct of 
the lower animals. Our argument appeals, on the 
contrary, to the highest known type in intelligent 
action, the type revealed in our own consciousness, 
with which we are best acquainted, and from which 
is derived our only notion of a power outside our- 
selves. For, it is only through the consciousness 
of power or energy in our own voluntary actions 
that we arrive at any conception of power or energy 
in the external world ; we must come back to the 
human will for any explanation of what we see dis- 
played around us. And as the force of will is both 
higher and better known to us than the mere me- 
chanical, chemical, or vital forces of nature, we are 
perfectly warranted, on philosophical grounds, in 
thus explaining the lower from the higher, rather 
than reducing the higher to the lower. 

Professor Huxley, it is true, assures us that mod- 
ern science is banishing gradually from all regions 
of human thought what we call spirit and spontane- 
ity. But when modern science shall have succeeded 
in doing this, it will involve not only the destruction 
of all evidence that the universe is the result of a 
free intelligent cause, but that any events whatever 
are due to such an origin. The reasoning which 
obliterates a supreme cause, obliterates every human 
cause just as" much. So that, if science succeeds in 
proving that the phenomena of nature do not pro- 
ceed from will, it will demonstrate, just as conclu- 
sively, that, in the most ordinary acts of life, we do 
not bring things to pass by the exercise of volition. 



IMMANENT FINALITY. 233 

In other words, mere science seeks in vain to ex- 
plain the realization of a purpose. It cannot trace 
the connection between mental states and physical 
changes. So far as physical science is concerned, 
the acts of the will are on exactly the same level 
as the operations of nature. Purpose and intelli- 
gence are nowhere presented to its view. In fact, 
the problem of freedom and the problem of design 
are fundamentally the same. With respect to a 
directing intelligence no line, can be drawn between 
the processes of nature and the works of man. 



LECTURE VIII. 

CONSCIENCE AND A MORAL ORDER. 

In turning as we have, in the course of our argu- 
ment, from the phenomena of the external world to 
the wholly different class of phenomena revealed in 
man's inner consciousness, we have thus far sur- 
veyed only a part of the field presented to us. We 
have looked at man as a creature of intelligence, as 
a being endowed with reason, as capable of choice, 
as forming conscious resolves, and as acting in ac- 
cordance with preconceived purpose. From these 
undeniable characteristics of man we have reasoned 
respecting the processes revealed in nature around 
him. And we have taken the ground that to ex- 
plain these processes, to account for the manifest 
working towards definite ends that nature so unmis- 
takably shows, it is at once more natural and more 
legitimate to argue from these higher operations of 
intelligence so directly revealed to us in conscious- 
ness, than to argue from the lower operations of 
instinct only obscurely presented in the brute crea- 
tion. And thus we have reached the conclusion that 
the finality shown in nature is the operation of a 
conscious intelligence distinct from and above nat- 
ure. 

But in thus reasoning we have accomplished only 
part of our task ; we have surveyed only a portion 
of the phenomena that consciousness presents. For 



CONSCIENCE AND A MORAL ORDER. 235 

it is not more certain that man is a rational and in- 
telligent creature, than that man is a moral creature. 
If it be evident that he is endowed with reason, it is 
not less evident that he is endowed with conscience. 
The proof of these two propositions rests upon pre- 
cisely the same ground, and if we accept the one we 
must accept the other also. And if we have a right 
to reason from one class of facts which conscious- 
ness attests, we have the same right to reason from 
the other. The argument in either case is perfectly 
direct and simple. It is an argument from obvious, 
clearly attested facts, facts which can only be ig- 
nored or denied by denying the existence of human 
nature itself. Unless we are prepared to go to ^the 
extreme of regarding human consciousness as a mere 
delusion, unless we are willing to reduce the opera- 
tions of mind to mere physical modifications of the 
brain, and make volition the inevitable sequence of 
cause and effect, we cannot deny the existence of a 
moral sense. 

Let us bear in mind that in this whole argument, 
we are reasoning simply from facts. All that I now 
claim is that man himself, and the phenomena of his 
inner consciousness, are just as much facts as any- 
thing we can note in the world around us. If then 
we are willing to admit that man himself is anything 
more than an illusion, that his active powers are 
anything more than a passing fancy with which he 
deceives himself during the few short years of his 
conscious existence on earth, we must admit, not 
only that he is an intelligent, but a moral being : that 
he is capable of distinguishing between right and 
wrong, that he is influenced by moral emotions, and 
that he recognizes the existence of moral laws. The 



236 THE THEISTIC ARGUMENT. 

question here raised is simply a question of fact, and 
the fact that there is an external world is not a fact 
more directly attested than the fact that man has 
a conscience which forces him to an approbation of 
the right and a condemnation of the wrong. When 
we reason respecting the laws of the external world, 
or respecting the subtle properties of matter, we 
are not dealing with facts so clear and so incon- 
testible as when we reason respecting the moral 
sense. The facts with which we are here brought 
so closely in contact reveal themselves in our daily 
lives, and in all our acts. They are not far off, but 
lie close at hand. They are not inferences from other 
facts, but facts of which we are directly conscious ; 
not reported to us upon the testimony of others, but 
part and parcel of our very selves. If we exist, 
these exist as the essential constituent of our very 
being. If we cannot assume, as established beyond 
doubt, these universal and distinctive characteristics 
of man's moral nature, we have no basis for any in- 
ference that we may draw respecting any phenom- 
ena whatever. For the test of all knowledge must be 
found in consciousness. If we cannot confide in 
consciousness when consciousness reveals to us the 
existence of moral distinctions, we cannot implicitly 
trust in what consciousness attests respecting our 
intellectual processes. The absolute validity of con- 
sciousness is not less the basis of philosophy than 
the basis of morals. Hence Leibnitz truly says : 
" If our immediate internal experience could possi- 
bly deceive us, there could no longer be for us any 
truth of fact ; nay, nor any truth of reason."^ 

And let it further be observed that, as our argu- 

1 \Nouveaux Essais, lib. ii. c. 27, § 13.] 



CONSCIENCE AND A MORAL ORDER. 237 

ment proceeds simply from facts, we are not at pres- 
ent concerned with any speculations respecting the 
origin of what is termed the moral sense, or with 
any subtle analysis of its nature and working. 
These are questions important in themselves, but 
they have no immediate connection with what we 
are now discussing. We are simply looking at man 
as he is, and are not asking how he came to be so. 
We are dealing with the phenomena of conscious- 
ness simply as facts of universal experience. The ex- 
planation of these facts is another matter. No man 
can doubt that the moral sense exists. We have 
each of us only to look within ourselves for the un- 
mistakable proofs of its presence and reality. There 
is not one of us who has not bowed to its impera- 
tive sway. It exists as a distinct consciousness of 
moral law, as recognizing a rule of duty, as always 
involving a sense of responsibility. It sits in judg- 
ment on us. Human nature would not exist, human 
life would be stripped of its significance, the com- 
plex relations we sustain to one another would be 
divested of value, if this element were lacking. 

It is not more evident that man is the supreme 
fact in nature, than that the possession of a moral 
sense is the supreme fact in man. It is this, rather 
than reason, that draws the line between him and 
the brute creation. The fact that he recognizes the 
imperative obligations of a moral law is the distinct- 
ive fact about him. In the oft-quoted words of 
Kant : " Two things there are which, the of tener and 
more steadfastly they are considered, fill the mind 
with an ever new and ever rising admiration and 
reverence, — the starry heavens above me, and the 
moral law within me. Of neither am I compelled 



238 THE THEISTIC ARGUMENT. 

to seek out the reality, as veiled in darkness, or 
only to conjecture the possibility as lying beyond 
the hemisphere of my knowledge. Both I contem- 
plate lying clear before me, and connect them im- 
mediately with my consciousness of existence. The 
one departs from the place I occupy in the outer 
world of sense, and expands the physical connec- 
tions in which I stand beyond the bounds of imag- 
ination, with worlds rising beyond worlds, and sys- 
tems embraced in systems." "The other departs 
from my invisible self, from my personality, and 
represents me in a world, truly infinite indeed, but 
with which my connection, .... unlike the relation 
I stand in to the worlds of sense, I am compelled to 
recognize as universal and necessary."^ 

The most recent theory of the origin of the moral 
sense, and the only one that we need to refer to here, 
is the theory which accounts for it as the conse- 
quence of evolution, as a development either in the 
experience of individuals or in the course of ages, 
out of pleasure and pain, out of benefits and inju- 
ries, and which traces the convictions and feelings 
implied in it to the course of circumstances under 
which it has grown up. Those who give this ex- 
planation readily concede all that we have thus far 
asserted, — the existence of a moral sense and of 
moral intuitions in civilized man. It is admitted 
that man, in his present highly developed state, is 
endowed with a complex group of emotions leading 
him to seek the right and to avoid the wrong with- 
out any reference to considerations of utility. It is 
further admitted, that the intuitions of right and 
wrong, like the intuitions of time and space, are in- 

1 \Kritik der praktischen Vernunft, Beschluss.] 



CONSCIENCE AND A MORAL ORDER. 239 

dependent of mere individual experience. In this 
respect, those who hold to the evolution theory of 
morals really approach nearer to the lofty viev^ of 
Kant than to the utilitarian theory which referred 
moral distinction to the experiences which each man 
has of pleasure and pain. 

The evolution theory accounts for moral distinc- 
tion, not from the experience of the individual, but 
from the long-continued and ever advancing experi- 
ence of the race. The explanation is the same as 
in the case of physical or intellectual growth. Pleas- 
ure and pain furnish the starting-point. Pleasure, 
says Mr. Spencer, is "a feeling which we seek to 
bring into consciousness and retain there," while 
pain " is a feeling which we seek to get out of con- 
sciousness and keep out." And supposing a race of 
animals could come into existence which should ha- 
bitually seek baneful actions as pleasurable and shun 
useful actions as painful, natural selection would im- 
mediately exterminate it. Only those races can ex- 
ist whose feelings, on the average, result in actions 
which are in harmony with environing relations. 
Thus we arrive at the conclusion that pleasure is a 
state of consciousness accompanying the relatively 
complete adjustment of inner to outer relations, 
while pain is a state of consciousness attendant upon 
the discordance between inner and outer relations. 
The satisfaction that men sometimes find in injuri- 
ous activities does not invalidate the general rule, 
that pleasures and pains are positive or negative 
conditions of self-preservation. 

But we have thus far reached no proper basis for 
ethical distinction. We can do this only when we 
so far enlarge our conception of pleasure and pain 



240 THE THEISTIC ARGUMENT. 

as to take into the account not only what concerns 
the well-being of the individual, but the well-being 
of the whole body of which he is but a single mem- 
ber. And bearing in mind that this whole body, 
which at first was but the family or tribe, has come 
to include the whole race, we have for a basis of 
ethical distinction, the principle that actions mor- 
ally right are those which are beneficial to human- 
ity, while actions morally wrong are those which are 
detrimental to humanity. It is not correct to say, 
however, that the doctrine of evolution teaches that 
the moral sense is due merely to the registration 
through countless ages that some actions benefit 
humanity, while others injure it, and that from a 
gradual organization of such inductions all our 
moral distinctions have arisen. It is equally true 
that there is also a highly complex feeling of sym- 
pathy, the product of a slow emotional evolution, 
which prompts us to certain lines of conduct irre- 
spective of any conscious estimate of pleasure or 
utility.! 

By the more enthusiastic adherents of the doc- 
trine of evolution it is claimed that in no depart- 
ment of inquiry is it illustrated with more truth 
and grandeur than in its application to the prov- 
ince of ethics, and in the explanation that it fur- 
nishes of the origin of moral distinctions. But, 
while in this deeper synthesis supplied by the the- 
ory it is claimed that a common ground is furnished 
on which the intuitional school and the school of ex- 
perience, the disciples of Kant and the disciples of 
Locke, may stand together, it is not maintained 
that we possess an instinctive and inherited moral 

1 Fiske, Cosmic Philosophy, vol. ii., pp. 339, 356. 



CONSCIENCE AND A MORAL ORDER. 24 1 

sense, so that anterior to education or experience, 
we possess an organic preference for good actions, 
or an organic repugnance to bad actions ; but simply 
that when we are taught that an action is right or 
wrong we follow or shun it, without taking in all its 
ultimate consequences ; nor is it denied that when 
the intelHgence is very high there is likely to arise 
a deliberate pursuit of moral excellence, attended 
by a distinct knowledge of the elements in which 
such excellence consists. Such conscious devotion 
to ends conducive to the happiness of society is the 
latest and highest product of social evolution. 

I have not introduced this brief summary of 
what is awakening wide discussion just at this mo- 
ment as a theory of ethics, for the purpose of in- 
quiring what elements of truth are involved in it, 
or how far it is likely to render any efficient service 
in reconciling theories that heretofore have stood 
opposed. We may concede, without hesitation, that 
it is an advance upon the theory of the old utili- 
tarians ; we may accept as sound the principles in- 
volved in its representation of the progression of 
nature, that nature makes for happiness, and that 
nature gradually prepares the way for the introduc- 
tion of morality. We may go further than this, and 
grant that the " intuitions of the moral faculty are 
the slowly organized results of experience received 
by the race," and still our reasoning from the facts 
of moral consciousness would not be in the least af- 
fected by these admissions. Grant, for the sake of 
the argument, that the present moral consciousness 
of the race is wholly the product of evolution, and 
that man as a moral being has come to be what he 
is by a process strictly analogous to that by which 
16 



242 THE THEISTIC ARGUMENT. 

his physical organs have been developed, any infer- 
ences deduced from man's moral nature, instead of 
being weakened, would rather be strengthened by 
it ; for we have already seen that evolution is sim- 
ply a process, and a process that in no way conflicts 
with the idea of design. Whether the moral sense 
is a faculty implanted in man by a supreme intelli- 
gence, or whether the moral sense is the result of a 
long process of development which a supreme intel- 
ligence has designed and superintended, are ques- 
tions which do. not in the least affect the authority of 
conscience, or the validity of the distinctions which 
it shows. Nay, if we accept this explanation of the 
genesis of man's moral nature, we must be driven 
to admit that his moral being, as the last term in 
the stupendous series of cosmical changes which 
began with the massing together of nebulous mat- 
ter in the distant past, represents the highest plane 
of existence yet attained, and that in reasoning from 
it we are reasoning on the highest plane to which it 
is possible to rise. For those, therefore, who hold 
to evolution, the moral argument must be of neces- 
sity the supreme argument. The bar of man's 
moral consciousness is the very highest tribunal to 
which we can make our appeal. 

Having established this important point, that the 
argument deduced from the phenomena of man's 
moral consciousness is wholly independent of any 
theory as to the origin of his moral nature, let us 
now set distinctly before us the new stage in our 
discussion on which we are about to enter, and its 
relation to what has been accomplished up to this 
point. It is of the utmost importance to under- 
stand precisely what it is that we are attempting to 



CONSCIENCE AND A MORAL ORDER. 243 

prove, and to see clearly how far our argument legit- 
imately extends. In the argument presented in the 
last lecture from human intelligence, it will be re- 
membered that it was not claimed that human intel- 
ligence, in itself, furnished the proof of the existence 
of a supreme being, but that the existence of a su- 
preme cause, having been inferred on the grounds 
of human intelligence, this latter afforded us the 
highest illustration of its method of working. In 
other words, having derived from the facts pre- 
sented in the external universe the idea of intelli- 
gent cause, the phenomena of human volition enti- 
tled us to infer that intelligence holds the same rel- 
ative supremacy in the universe that it holds in us. 
The argument which I am now presenting from 
man's moral nature rests upon precisely the same 
basis, and has precisely the same scope. I make 
this explanation here because by many the moral 
argument has been carried much farther. The phe- 
nomena of conscience are so impressive and so dis- 
tinctly revealed, they possess, in contrast with mere 
physical phenomena, a character so imperative and 
constraining, they force themselves so powerfully 
upon us as the mandates of a superior power, that 
some have not hesitated to infer that conscience is 
itself the very will of God in the soul, and that in 
the mere fact of the existence of a moral sense, we 
have a proof of the divine existence complete in 
itself, and not needing to be supplemented by any 
further evidence. This was the result at which 
Kant arrived. After having exerted to the utmost 
his unequaled logical powers, to prove that the un- 
aided reason, by whatever path it searches after 
God, inevitably loses itself in a maze of self-con- 



244 "^^^ THEISTIC ARGUMENT. 

tradictions, he ends by appealing to the moral fac- 
ulty as affording an assurance of the divine exist- 
ence which no cavil of skepticism could affect. 

Sir William Hamilton has also given the weight 
of his authority to the opinion that "the only valid 
arguments for the existence of God, and for the im- 
mortality of the human soul, rest on the ground of 
man's moral nature,"^ or as he has elsewhere ex- 
pressed it, " Theology is wholly dependent on psy- 
chology, for with the proof of the moral nature of 
man stands or falls the proof of the existence of a 
Deity. "^ Thus the moral nature of man is not made 
use of as furnishing illustration of the attributes of 
a being whose existence has been already inferred 
from other sources, but is exclusively appealed to in 
proof of the existence of that Being. The argument 
thus presented by Hamilton is essentially the argu- 
ment of adequate cause, and its validity depends 
upon the principle that whatever exists must have 
had an antecedent at least equal to itself, and hence 
that man's moral constitution must have proceeded 
from a cause itself moral. But it is clear that this 
argument can have no weight unless we have first 
ascertained precisely how it was that man's moral 
constitution came to exist. Divorced from the doc- 
trine of a first cause it comes to nothing. 

But the argument for the divine existence, derived 
from conscience, has been presented in still another 
form, where without any reference to the origin of 
the moral sense the simple phenomena of conscience 
are alone taken into account. The force of this 
argument rests, not on the existence of the moral 

1 \The Works of Reid, vol. ii., p. 974 (note U).] 

2 \Lectui'es on Metaphysics (Lect. ii.), vol. i., p. 33.] 



CONSCIENCE AND A MORAL ORDER. 245 

sense, as a fact in nature needing to be accounted 
for, but on its character, and the nature of its teach- 
ings. Conscience is here viewed as a spontaneously 
admonishing influence which acts independently of 
our own volition, and which thus forces upon us the 
conviction of something distinct from and above 
ourselves. The monitions of conscience come to 
us as a mandate, and carry with them the neces- 
sary recognition of something superior to ourselves. 
When we attentively regard the operations of con- 
science, it is urged by those who hold this view, the 
chief thing forced upon our attention is that we find 
ourselves face to face with a purpose, a purpose not 
our own, yet one that dominates us, and makes itself 
felt as ever present, and one that we cannot disso- 
ciate from a purposer, who thus furnishes unmis- 
takable indication of his own character.^ 

By no one has this argument been presented with 
more force and beauty than by Dr. Newman, a writer 
whose pure and lucid language I am glad to have 
any excuse for quoting : — 

" If, as is the case, we feel responsibility, are ashamed, 
are frightened, at transgressing the voice of conscience, 
this implies that there is One to whom we are responsi- 
ble, before whom we are ashamed, whose claims upon us 
we fear. If, on doing wrong, we feel the same tearful, 
broken-hearted sorrow which overwhelms us on hurting 
a mother; if, in doing right, we enjoy the same sunny 
serenity of mind, the same soothing, satisfactory delight, 
which follows on our receiring praise from a father, — 
we certainly have within us the image of some person to 
whom our love and veneration look, in whose smile we 
find our happiness, for whom we yearn, towards whom 

1 See Flint, Theism, p. 402. 



246 THE THE IS TIC ARGUMENT. 

we direct our pleadings, in whose anger we are troubled 
and we waste away. These feelings in us are such as re- 
quire for their exciting cause an intelligent being ; we are 
not affectionate towards a stone, nor do we feel shame 
before a horse or a dog; we have no remorse or com- 
punction in breaking mere human law : yet so it is ; con- 
science excites all these painful emotions, — confusion, 
foreboding, self-condemnation ; and, on the other hand, 
it sheds upon us a deep peace, a sense of security, a res- 
ignation, and a hope which there is no sensible, no earthly 
object to elicit. * The wicked flees when no one pursu- 
eth ; ' then why does he flee ? whence his terror 1 Wlx) 
is it that he sees in solitude, in darkness, in the hidden 
chambers of his heart ? If the cause of these emotions 
does not belong to this visible world, the Object to which 
his perception is directed must be supernatural and di- 
vine ; and thus the phenomena of conscience as a dictate 
avail to impress the imagination with the picture of a su- 
preme governor, — a judge, holy, just, powerful, all-seeing, 
retributive." ^ 

But, beautiful and impressive as this statement 
is, to my mind it is not conclusive. On the con- 
trary, when carefully analyzed, it will be found itself 
to furnish the evidence that it is only when the 
moral emotion is illuminated and instructed by ideas 
derived from a different source that it awakens in the 
mind such clear conviction of the divine existence. 
The mere fact that conscience is independent of 
will is equally true of all our emotions. 

Hence I find myself unable to agree with those 
who would make the moral nature of man the sole 
and exclusive basis of the argument for the divine 
existence. It is true that conscience makes us di- 
rectly cognizant of moral law, and awakens through 

1 Grammar of Assent, pp. 105, 106. 



CONSCIENCE AND A MORAL ORDER. 247 

reflection the idea of a moral order. But to affirm 
that conscience is distinctively and exclusively the 
religious organ of the soul, to represent its primary 
function to be direct and immediate communion with 
God, is going much beyond this. In its essence 
conscience is ethical, not religious. What we imme- 
diately apprehend through conscience is the right 
and wrong in actions. I grant that conscience is the 
supreme faculty in man, and that the logical infer- 
ences to be deduced from the nature and operations 
of conscience carry us farther in our understanding 
of the Supreme Being than the arguments derived 
from any other, or from all other sources, but they 
do this only when combined with those other argu- 
ments. Man does not reach his final conviction of 
religious truth through any one faculty or organ. 
He is framed for religion by the whole make and 
constitution of his nature. 

Let me here repeat what I said in a former lec- 
ture, that the argument for the divine existence 
which we are here following out is complex and cor- 
relative. Not from one, but from many sources is 
the evidence derived, and its force lies in the whole, 
not in any of the separate parts. Neither the phe- 
nomena of man's rational nature, nor the phenomena 
of his moral nature, taken by themselves, would be 
sufficient to prove the divine existence. But having 
inferred, from a wholly different source, the exist- 
ence of a supreme cause, we may reason with confi- 
dence from the highest phenomena which nature 
presents, — man's intellectual and moral nature, — 
respecting the nature and attributes of that cause. 
Having established that something must exist be- 
yond and above ourselves, we may legitimately infer, 



248 THE THEISTIC ARGUMENT. 

from what we find in ourselves, what that something 
must be. Hence we are enabled to see clearly the 
force and scope of the argument from conscience. 
It does not claim to prove the existence of a supreme 
being, but recognizing the existence of that being as 
already proved, it proceeds to clothe him with his 
highest and most impressive attributes. 

What, then, let us next ask, may we infer respect- 
ing the Supreme Being from the moral constitution 
of man ? 

In the first place, since the moral constitution of 
man is part of the general system of nature, the 
same method of reasoning which we have made use 
of in dealing with the facts of external nature, we 
may make use of here. Conscience, as we have 
already seen, exists within us as the recognition of 
moral law. It is an inward judge ; it continually ac- 
cuses or excuses ; it condemns or approves ; it fills 
the soul with the blissful sense of self-approval, or 
drives it to remorse and despair with the bitter feel- 
ing of self-condemnation ; it asserts an imperious 
sway over body and mind, over appetites and affec- 
tions and faculties ; yet it never claims to do this by 
any authority of its own. It does not lay down a 
law, but simply warns us of the existence of a law. 
Its authority is not original, but derived ; in its 
sternest accents it never speaks but with a delegated 
voice. The law of conscience is not set by any man 
for himself, for the characteristic of conscience which 
is most unmistakable, is that it claims obedience from 
the will. 

Hence, while the direct function of conscience is 
to discriminate the right and wrong in actions, while 
its immediate sphere is the human will, it goes far 



CONSCIENCE AND A MORAL ORDER. 249 

beyond this. In fact it can perform those functions 
only in this way. It carries the soul outside of 
itself, and brings the will before a bar independent of 
its own impulses. It inevitably awakens in the soul 
the perception of a moral law, — universal, unchange- 
able, binding under all circumstances, in short of a 
moral order of the world analogous to the physical 
order which it is the province of science to trace and 
illustrate. The moral consciousness of man re- 
fuses to stop short of this conclusion. Man feels 
himself, not merely related to physical laws, but even 
more closely and more vitally related to moral laws, 
laws which not only enter into the structure of his 
own being, and go to form the framework of human 
life, but laws which extend beyond himself and his 
own hopes and struggles, and assert themselves as 
everywhere supreme. Such recognition of the moral 
order of the world is not only the highest, but the 
only conclusion that can satisfy the educated moral 
consciousness of mankind. 

This universal moral order supplies us a basis of 
reasoning like the physical order which we consid- 
ered in a former lecture. As from the reason man- 
ifest in creation we argued back to the intelligence 
of the first cause, so in the same way from the moral 
order we may reason back to the moral attributes of 
the first cause. We did not infer, in the first in- 
stance, that the complex mathematical laws illustrated 
in the movements of the heavenly bodies were cre- 
ated by the first cause, but simply that they illus- 
trated, and revealed, and made manifest, some of the 
characteristics of that cause ; and so here we do not 
affirm that the moral order of the world, the un- 
changeable distinction of right and wrong, sprang 



250 THE THE IS TIC ARGUMENT. 

from a supreme will, but that they afford us the 
means of forming conclusions respecting that will ; 
for it is inconceivable that the Supreme Being should 
not himself be in harmony with what is highest and 
most perfect. The laws which we can only conceive 
of as universal and unchangeable, must be the laws 
of his own being. We therefore reach the conclu- 
sion, that the supreme cause must be not only su- 
premely intelligent, but supremely righteous and 
good. 

It may be objected that we make a bold leap in 
thus reasoning from the phenomena of our inner con- 
sciousness to the nature of an absolute being. But 
let it always be borne in mind that we are reason- 
ing, not to his existence, but simply to his attributes, 
and if the inferences which we have already made 
from the phenomena of the external universe were 
legitimate, these that we are now making from the 
facts of moral consciousness cannot be less so. They 
are equally a part of the whole system of things ; 
and even conceding what is claimed by the school of 
evolutional moralists, that the moral sense in man is 
the result of the progressive experience of the race, 
refined, disciplined, consolidated through countless 
generations, the moral perceptions being conditioned 
by the growth of the nervous organism, yet this 
would not detract from, but would only add to, the 
force of the argument, since this conviction of a 
moral order, and all the inferences logically flowing 
from it, would stand revealed as the highest result 
of human development, and as the last and highest 
phenomenon which would furnish the most authori- 
tative postulates for reasoning. 

But we may go further than this. The moral con- 



CONSCIENCE AND A MORAL ORDER. 25 1 

stitution of man, like his physical constitution, does 
more than illustrate the presence and operation of 
law ; it not less clearly reveals the indications of a 
purpose. When we closely study it, we find mani- 
fest evidence that it is a means to an end. The eye 
is not more distinctly made for seeing and the ear 
for hearing, than is the conscience fashioned to ena- 
ble man to discriminate between good and evil. We 
instinctively recognize this fact when we term it the 
moral sense. But this purpose which conscience 
reveals is no more our purpose than is the law which 
it recognizes our law. It is the purpose of another, 
which it is our mission in life to realize. Our own 
purposes are often in conflict with it ; our inner con- 
sciousness is often tortured and rent asunder by the 
conflict that thus ensues ; but the ends purposed in 
our moral constitution remain just as certain and as 
unmistakable. We cannot throw off the conviction 
that this constant aim is our own moral improve- 
ment. We are endowed with this supreme faculty 
that we may more and more eschew evil and habit- 
uate ourselves to do right. 

The moral education and discipline of man is, 
therefore, revealed as the ultimate and highest end 
of his being. Whatever may be the subordinate 
ends set before him to realize, the highest and ulti- 
mate end is the conformity of his nature to the su- 
preme law of existence, and this law is moral. Moral 
perfection is the mark set before him, a mark which 
in his deepest degradation and ignorance he is never 
able to lose wholly out of sight. But if we reason 
from the evidences of purpose shown in physical 
nature, we may also reason from these evidences of 
purpose in man's moral constitution. If we may 



252 THE THE IS TIC ARGUMENT. 

infer that the first cause of nature is rational and 
free, we may just as confidently argue that he is 
righteous and holy. Only to such a being could this 
ultimate purpose, revealed in man's moral nature, be 
referred. All the feelings and emotions of the soul 
which are involved in the apprehension of right and 
wrong, — the approval of conscience when we follow 
the path of duty, its unfailing condemnation when 
we wander from that path, — point us to a righteous 
cause of arrangements so distinctive and universal. 

And here again let us note that our conclusion is 
independent of any theory of the origin of man's 
moral nature. Let us take the latest and most elab- 
orate statement of the evolutional theory of ethics 
from Mr. Spencer's recent volume ; yet even here, 
though Mr. Spencer would not acknowledge it, we 
find clearly indicated the constant and elaborate real- 
ization of purpose. When he asserts that nature in 
all her changes is progressive, and that this prog- 
ress tends to happiness, and that this tendency is 
secured by many and intricate adjustments, what 
have we in all this but indications of a purpose .-* This 
adjustment to an end, being itself an effect, implies 
a cause, and if the end is happiness the cause must 
be benevolent. The grand law of beneficent prog- 
ress, revealed in the whole history of the race, is 
surely as impressive a witness to the character of the 
supreme cause as anything in the physical constitu- 
tion of man. But there is another and a higher end 
in nature than happiness. We have seen that man's 
moral constitution points to a moral end. The two 
concur, yet they are distinct. In bringing man to 
recognize this highest end, evolution furnishes proof 
of design. 



CONSCIENCE AND A MORAL ORDER. 253 

But, I repeat, that this argument proceeds simply 
from conscience as a fagt. We have only to ask, 
what have we indubitably given in conscience, just 
as we asked, in a former lecture, what did we have 
given in the facts of the external world. Our whole 
reasoning, up to this point, has been reasoning from 
facts. Doubtless, reasoning from the facts of the 
inner consciousness should be pursued with caution. 
The facts lie, indeed, near to each one of us, yet 
in the nature of the case they are liable to miscon- 
ception. But the argument has not been rested on 
single and exceptional phenomena of individual ex- 
perience, but on the general and distinctive and ac- 
knowledged characteristics of man's moral nature. 
I have been careful to assert nothing the truth of 
which would not be at once conceded. The argu- 
ment cannot, therefore, be affected by the possible 
objection, that man's moral perceptions show every 
degree of development, and that they are often de- 
graded and false. In reasoning back, as we have, 
to the character and attributes of the supreme 
cause, we have reasoned from human nature, as we 
had a right to do, not in its lowest, but in what is 
acknowledged to be its highest stage of develop- 
ment. 

According to that school with whose conclusions 
we are now most directly concerned, the answer to 
the great question of human life must be sought 
in a complete survey of the history of the universe, 
as far as it is revealed to human faculties. This sur- 
vey shows us that throughout all the provinces of 
nature may be traced the aspect of a stupendous 
process of evolution, which is alike exemplified in 
the development of our planetary system from a 



254 ^-^^ THE IS TIC ARGUMENT. 

relatively homogeneous mass of vapor, in the in- 
creasing physical and chemical diversity and inter- 
dependence of the various portions of the surface of 
our cooling earth, and in the wonderful differentia- 
tions by which solar radiance is metamorphosed 
into the countless forms of energy manifested in 
winds and waves, in plants and animals, and in rea- 
soning men. The progress has always been from the 
lower to the higher, — life, whether in its lower or 
its higher forms, consisting in a series of adjust- 
ments between the organism and its environments, 
till, at length, as the crown and glory of the com- 
plicated movement, man appeared, endowed with 
intellect and with moral sense, the mark toward 
which nature had all along been striving. 

Now all that I claim is that in any reasoning re- 
specting the ultimate ground, or first cause of this 
stupendous process, man himself, as the last, the 
highest, the most clearly comprehended result, 
should be the starting-point and postulate of our 
argument. I care not whence he came, or how he 
was fashioned in the womb of unrecorded time ; I 
take him just as he is, as the most wonderful fact 
that nature has to show. As from the phenomena 
of man's will, rather than from the instinct of 
brutes, we reasoned respecting the nature of that 
causal power which lies behind the ever-changing 
phenomena of the physical world, so from man's 
moral nature, as confessedly the highest manifesta- 
tion of conscious life known to us, we have rea- 
soned respecting the moral character and attributes 
of that being by whom this moral sense was called 
into existence. From the highest known we reason 
respecting the highest unknown. Not in the starry 



CONSCIENCE AND A MORAL ORDER. 255 

heavens, not in the wonderful adaptations and ar- 
rangements of organic nature, not in the lower 
forms of conscious life, but in man, the crown and 
glory of all, do we have the clearest image of the 
invisible maker. 

Reasoning from this lofty premise of man's moral 
nature, we are led to the conclusion that man is sub- 
ject to a moral law, and this moral law resolves it- 
self into a universal moral order, the counterpart of 
the order and harmony shown in the physical uni- 
verse. We are led to accept the contents of the 
moral law as a revelation of the moral attributes of 
the supreme cause, precisely as we are led to accept 
the characteristics of the physical universe as evi- 
dence of his rational attributes. If the facts pre- 
sented authorize the inference in the one case, they 
authorize it equally in the other. We are not adopt- 
ing any different method of reasoning, and are not 
pushing the argument to any greater extreme. In 
either case, the reasoning is inductive, and the ar- 
gument rests on the basis of fact. And the facts, 
in either case, are acknowledged by all. The phe- 
nomena of the external world are shown in the 
speech which day utters to day, and the knowledge 
which night showeth to night, and the phenomena 
of the moral consciousness, however we may ac- 
count for them, are uttered not less distinctly in 
every language spoken under heaven ! 

But precisely at this point in our argument we 
are brought face to face with grave difficulties, — 
difficulties that must be met and fairly considered 
before we can proceed further. Granted that the 
soul of man is conscious of these moral emotions ; 
granted that it inwardly realizes a moral law to 



256 THE THE IS TIC ARGUMENT. 

which it owes obedience ; granted that in view of 
its relation to this law it is rewarded with approval 
or tortured with remorse, still what reason have we 
to infer that there exists any external reality corre- 
sponding with these emotions ? If these phenom- 
ena go to prove the existence of moral laws, and of 
a moral order, are there not other facts which go 
as much to prove the opposite ? Are there not 
anomalies in human life which are inconsistent with 
the idea of moral government ; are there not dark 
facts, and these not few in number, but countless 
and various and everywhere present, which contra- 
dict this testimony of the moral sense, and forbtd 
us to believe that there is any such moral order of 
the world as conscience attests ? Is the presence 
of so much misery and sin to be reconciled with 
the idea of a moral government ? 

In proceeding to consider this objection, let us 
note at the outset that the facts here alleged in op- 
position to the doctrine of a moral government, 
facts, let u's frankly avow, which cannot be denied 
or gainsaid, will be found on examination to be anal- 
agous to similar defects in the physical world, which 
have in the same way been used as arguments 
against the divine wisdom and power. In the case 
of physical phenomena, however, the advance of 
science has steadily tended to remove these diffi- 
culties. To the first savage who gazed with wonder 
at the heavens, the movements of the celestial 
bodies must have seemed full of anomalies. Only 
after long and repeated observation was a correct 
and coherent theory of their movements reached. 
And not till the most refined analysis of mathemat- 
ical science was called into requisition, was it finally 



CONSCIENCE AND A MORAL ORDER. 2$ J 

demonstrated that what seemed their most anom- 
alous and eccentric movements were only more 
striking and convincing illustrations of the simple 
and universal law which caused the tides to rise and 
fall, and steered with unerring precision the course 
of the comet in its furthest flight. The seeming 
disorder was not in nature, but in man's limited and 
partial vision. 

I know there have been those, even in our own 
time, who have claimed that the general arrange- 
ments of the universe might be very considerably 
improved. Thus the founder of the positive phi- 
losophy has argued that there is no evidence of in- 
telligence or design in the solar system, because its 
elements and members have not been disposed of 
in the most advantageous manner. As, however, 
Comte himself has declared that we know nothing 
whatever of final causes, and hence can know noth- 
ing of the purpose which the arrangements of na- 
ture were meant to accomplish, it is not easy to see 
how we are qualified to form an opinion on the ques- 
tion whether these arrangements are the best or 
not. If I am shown an intricate machine, the pur- 
pose of which I not only do not know, but am in- 
capable of comprehending, of how much worth is 
my opinion as to the usefulness of that machine. 
Or if I stand at the beginning of a road, and do 
not know where it leads, it would seem somewhat 
presumptuous in me to claim that I can point out a 
more direct route to the same destination. Criti- 
cism of the arrangements of nature, absurd in any 
case, are a self-contradiction in such as deny design. 

These arguments urged against the inorganic 
world have been urged even more strongly against 
17 



258 THE THE IS TIC ARGUMENT. 

organic nature. Here, it is claimed, we are con- 
fronted with more striking anomalies, and with 
more inexplicable contradictions. Thus there are 
organs, it is said, which have no use, and other or- 
gans so imperfectly developed as to be capable of 
serving no useful function. And even those organs 
which are most highly developed, and the elaborate 
arrangements of which seem most apparent, have 
been subjected to a searching criticism and pro- 
nounced ill adapted to the purpose claimed for 
them. Thus it has been argued that the eye itself 
is not a perfect optical instrument, and that a much 
better might be contrived. And it has been claimed 
that many arrangements in nature serve only to 
inflict pain or cause destruction. And finally, the 
abortions and monstrous productions of nature are 
arrayed against the doctrine that the first cause of 
organic existence was wise and good. If we fairly 
weigh, it is argued by those who hold this view, 
all the phenomena of nature, the difficulties which 
we encounter will fully offset any argument to be 
derived from the proofs of intelligence and benev- 
olence. 

No one can deny these facts, and no thoughtful 
person can close his eye to the dark shadow cast 
over nature by the universal presence of physical 
evil. The history of suffering began on our planet 
ages before man existed. Geology shows that the 
earth was a scene of suffering and destruction, of 
violence and disease and agony and death, from the 
earliest epoch of animated existence. And not 
only were all creatures made subject to suffering, 
but as they advanced in the stages of growth, and 
became more highly organized, their suffering be- 



CONSCIENCE AND A MORAL ORDER. 259 

came more acute. Physical pain, instead of being 
gradually eliminated, constantly increased, and the 
higher and more varied the endowments of any 
creature, the more acute became his sensibility 
alike to pleasure and pain, till, at last, man, the 
crown and completion of organic nature, curiously 
summing up and reflecting in himself the functions 
and attributes of the lower creatures, was racked 
and tortured by pains of which they could have no 
conception. He purchases life by the physical tor- 
ture of another, and at last longs for the grave, as 
the only place where the weary are at rest. 

The general answer to these objections lies on 
the surface. We need only briefly to restate what 
has been often urged. Even could it be proved 
that undeniable defects may be discerned in the ar- 
rangements of the external universe, there might 
still remain sufficient proof of the wisdom and 
goodness of its author. Because intelligence and 
goodness are not everywhere shown, it does not 
follow that there is no proof of intelligence and 
goodness whatever. The question whether the uni- 
verse had its origin in intelligence is entirely differ- 
ent from the question whether the intelligence 
shown in the universe is perfect ; and at this stage 
of the argument the two questions should not be 
confounded. 

But further, in undertaking to show that there 
are defects and imperfections in the present system 
of things, it is obvious that we ought to proceed 
with caution. From our present point of view 
these defects may be apparent, but it does not fol- 
low, of necessity, that they are real. The inquiry 
upon which we here enter is a very large one, and 



260 THE THEISTIC ARGUMENT. 

there are many considerations that should be borne 
in mind before we undertake to answer it. We are 
throwing our plummet into water that is very deep. 

If it would be gross presumption in us to un- 
dertake to criticise a complicated piece of mech- 
anism, the design of which we very imperfectly com- 
prehend, it surely becomes us to pause before pro- 
nouncing with confidence upon the structure of 
the universe. We see but a very small portion of 
it, and understand but little of that we see. While 
this limited knowledge need not prevent us from 
recognizing such indications of intelligence as fall 
clearly and unmistakably within the range of our 
survey, it ought to deter us from pronouncing an 
opinion with regard to things the wisdom of which 
we fail to recognize. That they are unmixed and 
absolute evils does not follow from the mere fact 
that we do not perceive that they are good. In 
other words, we have a positive argument, which is 
not invalidated by an argument which may be only 
apparently negative. Most of the anomalies which 
at first perplexed us in the inorganic world have 
faded away in the increasing light of scientific re- 
search ; and reasoning from analogy, we should be 
prepared to expect that the seeming incongruities 
and contradictions in organic nature will be ex- 
plained in a wider comprehension of the whole sys- 
tem of things. 

For we cannot bear too strongly in mind the 
great principle, which every advance in science 
tends to establish, that all nature forms one great 
whole, the parts of which are curiously related and 
interdependent, and that the manifold uses and re- 
lations of all these parts to one another must be 



CONSCIENCE AND A MORAL ORDER. 26 1 

taken into account before we can undertake to pass 
any judgment upon them. Could we ^survey the 
whole universe, and mark how all its parts are 
related to each other and to the whole, we might de- 
termine whether an apparent defect in it was real, 
but not before. Nor is it simply by the present re- 
lations of these parts to one another that they are 
to be judged, but by their relation to all the past 
and to all the future of the whole system of things. 
A child may view the complicated engine of a great 
modern steamer. He has been taught the general 
theory on which engines are constructed ; he under- 
stands the properties of steam.; his mechanical 
knowledge enables him at once to comprehend the 
function of the piston and the crank, and to see 
how power is transmitted to the shaft. But he will 
be puzzled by many elaborate contrivances, some 
of which will not be called into play till a wholly 
new emergency arises. 

The existence of so much actual pain and suffer- 
ing presents a darker problem, a problem which the 
human mind, with its present knowledge, may not 
be able to solve. Yet there are considerations here 
which deserve attention. It is easy to see that pain 
serves some useful purposes. It has a preservative 
use, and supplies a needed warning against the ap- 
proach of danger. Without this constant monition 
animals would be continually running into peril. To 
this extent, therefore, pain may be regarded as a 
proof of benevolence on the part of the author of 
nature. Again, pain is a powerful stimulus to exer- 
tion. The keen sense of hunger stirs us to secure 
food, and those animals which depend most on their 
own energies for self support are precisely the ani- 



262 THE THEISTIC ARGUMENT. 

mals which rank highest in the scale of animated 
beings. And here it should be noticed that if the 
theory of evolution be accepted as established, all 
these seeming defects and anomalies of the organic 
world afford new proofs of a wise and benevolent 
purpose in the arrangement of things, since they 
must all be regarded as the necessary means and 
conditions of the preservation and improvement of 
successive races. Evolution removes many difficul- 
ties in the natural world. 

I do not urge these considerations as a solution of 
the mystery of physical pain and suffering, but sim- 
ply as showing that, with our limited understanding 
of the matter, pain and suffering cannot be fairly 
shown to conflict with the positive proofs of benevo- 
lence which the universe presents. The same line 
of argument will help us when we advance to the 
darker mystery of moral evil. The same reasons 
which forbid us to infer that suffering is inconsistent 
with the divine goodness, will make us shrink from 
the conclusion that moral evil is inconsistent with 
the divine righteousness. In neither case can hu- 
man reason reach any complete solution of the prob- 
lem, yet with regard to both these questions we may 
safely take the ground that positive proof, on the 
one hand, is not invalidated by partial knowledge on 
the other. That there is a law of right, is revealed 
to us in consciousness, that the government of the 
world must conform to this supreme law is a convic- 
tion which is forced upon the mind with a power too 
overwhelming to be shaken by any doubts or mis- 
givings which may arise when we fail to trace this 
law in the tangled web of human experience. 

We may ask the old question, why a perfectly holy 



CONSCIENCE AND A MORAL ORDER. 263 

being should permit sin to exist at all. No doubt we 
can conceive of intelligent creatures so formed as 
always to follow the path of right. Why then should- 
a man have been brought into existence certain to 
go astray .? But we have seen, in the physical world, 
that sensibility to pain and suffering keeps pace with 
higher endowment, and that those who enjoy most 
are also liable to suffer most. As we rise from the 
sphere of physical to the sphere of moral life, the 
same rule holds, and the greater the endowment 
the greater becomes the liability to its abuse. The 
highest endowment of all is the free agency, in the 
very nature of which is involved the possibility that 
mail may rebel against the moral law. If moral be- 
ings were to exist in the universe at all, so far as we 
can see they could only exist under this condition. 
The question, therefore, whether moral evil should 
exist, resolves itself into the question, whether man 
himself should exist. But the question, why the 
world should have been constituted as it is, or why 
it should not have been a different world, is a ques- 
tion which we are not here discussing. 

All that we have to show is that the existence of 
moral evil is not inconsistent with the idea of moral 
government. We have seen that liability to sin is 
involved in the idea of free agency ; it is not less true 
that the existence of moral disorder implies moral 
order. For, it is evident, that moral disorder can 
exist only as the counterpart and antithesis of moral 
order, for the very notion of moral evil implies a good 
which it contravenes, and a moral law by which it is 
condemned. We cannot conceive of a being as per- 
verted and depraved, unless we have in our minds 
the idea of a moral standard to which that being has 



264 THE THEISTIC ARGUMENT. 

failed to conform. Sin is not primary and original, 
but secondary and derivative. We can only be con- 
scious of it as violation of law. If, then, we admit 
the existence in the universe of any such thing as 
moral evil, we must admit the presence and impera- 
tive sway of moral law. The two conceptions are 
correlates of one another. We may take the ground 
that the sense of sin in man is a delusion, we may 
confound the distinction between moral and physical 
impulses, but if we recognize the mystery of moral 
evil we must recognize the reality of moral law. 

Furthermore, in considering the problem of moral 
evil we should have always in mind what was shown 
with regard to physical evil : that the narrow field 
open to our vision is only part of a general system 
of things. The laws of the moral, like the laws of 
the physical world, are connected together and form 
a great whole; and the wisdom or justice of any 
specific arrangement can be estimated rightly only 
by one to whose gaze the whole is revealed. We 
can clearly perceive that much of the moral evil 
existing in the world is incidental to such a system. 
If this principle fails to yield a complete evolution 
of the problem, we are still not authorized to con- 
clude that the unknown remainder is in conflict with 
the results already reached. The solid fact on which 
we stand is the moral sense. We have clearly revealed 
in moral consciousness the existence and authority 
of moral law. Many of the facts of human life tend 
powerfully to confirm this testimony ; some seem to 
contradict it. But contradictions, the real import 
and force of which we have no means of estimating, 
cannot weigh against a testimony of which we are 
directly conscious. 



LECTURE IX. 

HISTORY AND A MORAL PURPOSE. 

In reasoning back, as we have thus far, from the 
facts of man's moral consciousness to the existence 
of a moral law, and as a legitimate inference from 
this, to the existence of moral attributes in the first 
cause, we have considered the facts of consciousness 
simply as presented in the individual. Our starting- 
point has been what each one of us knows of him- 
self. This self-consciousness we have assumed as a 
fact directly revealed, and we have reasoned from it 
precisely as we reason from any fact given in nature. 
Man, whatever else we may say of him, is a natural 
phenomenon, and all that belongs to man must be 
accepted as part of the whole system of things. His 
moral consciousness is as indubitable a fact as any- 
thing presented in the physical universe. All that 
is required for the validity of the argument is to 
discriminate carefully between what belongs simply 
to the individual and what belongs to man as man. 
Or, in other words, the argument from moral con- 
sciousness makes its appeal to facts in man's moral 
nature which are recognized as universal. 

But this argument may be greatly extended and 
strengthened by being considered from a different 
point. Man is something more than an individual ; 
he is a member of a race ; he is an integral part of a 
great human family. It is not more certain that he 



266 THE THE IS TIC ARGUMENT. 

exists, than that he exists in connection with other 
beings like himself, and that his existence is condi- 
tioned by theirs. The individual is part of the whole, 
and all are members one of another. No one of us 
could be precisely what he is but for others existing 
around us. Nor are we determined simply by these 
present conditions. Not only those who exist with 
us, but all those who have existed before us, are in a 
certain sense a part of ourselves. Their existence 
was just as much the condition of our existence, and 
no one of us could be what he is but for influ- 
ences which they have put in motion. Thus each 
one of us was shaped by influences that existed be- 
fore he was born, influences that were not only 
immediate, but remote, and that go back to the be- 
ginning of time. So we are led back to the most 
impressive fact presented in human history, — that 
of the unity of the race. 

The question which now presents itself is, whether 
we can apply to the race the same method of reason- 
ing which we have applied to the individual. As 
we have deduced from the facts of individual con- 
sciousness the presence and binding authority of 
moral law, can we deduce the same conclusion from 
the facts of human history considered on a large 
scale. From the long and checkered story of the 
human race, from its incessant struggles, from its 
ever-changing and apparently confused and bewil- 
dering phases, from its alternating epochs of decay 
and growth, of decline and progress, can we draw 
any valid and satisfactory inference respecting a 
moral government of the world. The question is 
evidently the supreme question of historical study. 
' It dominates over every other, and unless it can be 



HISTORY AND A MORAL PURPOSE. 26/ 

answered, all other historical questions can claim 
only a very limited and secondary interest. Ques- 
tions as to the origin of races and of nations, as to 
the source and growth of political institutions, as to 
the rise and fall of dynasties, sink into insignificance 
when we once set before us this solemn question as 
to the meaning of human history itself. 

And while, for convenience, we here consider the 
argument from individual consciousness and the ar- 
gument from history as separate and apart, yet it is 
evident that they are closely connected, and that one 
depends upon the other. The facts of history are 
so complicated and confused, they present, when 
looked at externally, so little evidence of order and 
connection, that we should seek in vain to wind our 
way through the labyrinth without the clew that in- 
dividual consciousness affords. Without the light 
cast upon the facts of history by our own inner con- 
viction of the reality of a moral law, we should find 
that law nowhere printed on its pages. The argu- 
ment from history must therefore follow, and not pre- 
cede, the argument from the moral sense. Unless 
we have first satisfied ourselves, beyond a doubt, 
that man is a moral creature, and that he recognizes 
his responsibility to a moral law, we shall see human 
history as a mere physical progression, such as that 
which the slow growth of the oak, through centuries 
of storm and sunshine shows, or the restless heaving 
of an ocean, whose alternating ebb and flow show no 
orderly progression. 

The specific inquiry which presents itself, then, at 
this stage of our argument, is this : whether the his- 
tory of the race, considered as a whole, confirms the 
testimony of the individual consciousness as to the 



268 THE THEISTIC ARGUMENT. 

existence of a moral order. But to reach a satisfac- 
tory answer to this question, we have evidently first 
to ascertain whether any conception of order, or uni- 
formity, or law, can be applied to history. Unless 
we can first demonstrate that such a conception of 
human society as brings it within the domain of law 
is not absurd or self-contradictory, it will be idle to 
attempt to trace the presence of moral law. The 
progress of science has accustomed us to recognize 
the presence and reign of law throughout the nat- 
ural world. Not only the orderly phenomena pre- 
sented in the motions of the heavenly bodies, but 
what seemed the most discordant and irregular and 
abnormal processes of nature, are now seen to be 
reduced under this common principle. Our charts 
are no longer confined to the solid shore, but mark 
out as well the windings of ocean currents, and we 
turn with confidence to our morning papers for the 
indications of the storm that is slowly gathering on 
the slopes of the Rocky Mountains. 

But when we turn our gaze from external nature 
to those voluntary acts of man which form the sum 
and substance of human history, we shrink from ap- 
plying this universal rule. At first sight it seems to 
us that we have passed to a wholly different sphere, 
where the principles which regulate the physical uni- 
verse cannot apply. We are now dealing, not with 
the phenomena of matter, but with the phenomena 
of spirit ; and we instinctively refuse to submit our 
consciousness of free agency to a principle which 
seemingly reduces all human acts to inevitable fate. 
The application of law to history seems to place the 
phenomena of human consciousness on a level with 
physical facts, and human life becomes like the flow- 



HISTORY AND A MORAL PURPOSE. 269 

ering of a plant, or like the certain evolution of the 
tree from its seed. Hence the attempt to apply to 
history the methods of science, the mere suggestion, 
even, that the phenomena of history can be grouped 
under general principles, that the movements of hu- 
man society have conformed to any fixed and ascer- 
tainable laws, has awakened in many quarters an 
earnest opposition, on the ground that such a view 
is inconsistent with any religious theory of human 
life. 

Yet, in spite of the repugnance at first awakened 
by the suggestion that human history is thus gov- 
erned by general laws, it cannot be denied that the 
tendency of human thought, when earnestly applied 
to the study of history, has been in this direction. 
The human mind is so made that it instinctively re- 
coils from the recognition, in any sphere, of nothing 
but disorder and confusion. And when, by its more 
profound and accurate study of physical phenomena 
it had been trained in the habit of tracing every- 
where the presence of law, it all the more shrank 
from the conclusion that, in the highest sphere 
of natural operations, law should not somehow be 
found acting. The ancient observer, with his frag- 
mentary and discordant view of nature, might rest 
content with likening human history to a restless 
waste of waters ; but the modern mind, by the intel- 
lectual methods to which it has become habituated, 
is forced to trace unity and order in all phenomena, 
and reject as incredible the notion that a principle 
so clearly and so universally manifested in all the 
lower stages of creation, should be wholly suspended 
or annulled when we turn our investigation to the 
higher. 



270 THE THEISTIC ARGUMENT. 

The historic method has been aptly and truly de- 
scribed as the characteristic intellectual habit of the 
present age. We study facts, not simply as they 
are presented to us at the present instant, but in the 
whole course of their development. To know the 
human functions in their full action we go back even 
to man's embryonic life, and trace the successive 
stages by which each part has come to be precisely 
what it is. To comprehend the laws of speech, and 
the subtle analogies of language, we are not content 
to study the literature of a nation at its epoch of 
supreme perfection, or even to trace the history of a 
single tongue, but compare dialect with dialect, and 
syntax with syntax, in all the successive stages of 
their growth, till we go back beyond recorded time 
and lift the mysterious veil that hides the beginnings 
of nations and tribes. And, in doing this, we recog- 
nize the great truth, that both the human frame and 
human speech have passed through successive but 
connected states, that each state has been, in turn, 
a cause and an effect ; and a common law of growth 
and evolution has bound them all together, leading 
on to a definite result. 

Comparative philology, with all the splendid infer- 
ences derived from it respecting the early history 
and migrations of the human family, rests upon the 
postulate that language is an evolution, that this 
evolution conforms to fixed laws, and that these laws 
can be ascertained. But the growth of language is 
a rational process, for the possession of language 
is the universal characteristic which marks man as 
a rational being. It is not a part of his physical 
structure, but springs out of his supreme intellectual 
endowments. The growth of language is the most 



HISTORY AND A MORAL PURPOSE. 2^1 

evident and certain index of his rational develop- 
ment, the delicacy and refinement and precision of 
his modes of speech always keeping pace with his 
mental stature. It follows, therefore, that man in 
his intellectual growth is subject to law, and that his 
mental, not less than his physical characteristics, 
are evolved in regular succession, and in accordance 
with definite methods. No other conclusion than this 
can be reconciled with the facts which the history of 
language, and the history of human society, alike 
present. We trace everywhere the presence of uni- 
formity, of order, of law. 

And if, granting all this, it may be objected that 
the law thus manifested in human actions, and in 
human society, must be, after all,, a wholly different 
kind of law from that so clearly revealed in the oper- 
ations of physical nature, we may ask in reply what 
proof is there of this. For we have already seen, in 
an earlier part of our discussion, that what we term 
laws of physical nature are simply the operation of 
forces, and that the tendency of science is to reduce 
all these to the manifestations of a single force, of 
which they are but modifications, and into which 
they continually pass, and so far as we can see this 
ultimate force may be simply will. So far as we can 
see in nature, the principles of arrangement which 
govern the relations of forces are purely mental, 
and the most adequate conception we can form of 
force is derived directly from our own consciousness 
of vital power. If this be true, it follows that the 
law which manifests itself in the phenomena of mat- 
ter, and the law which manifests itself in the phe- 
nomena of mind, may be the same law, or law in 
precisely the same sense is equally present and 
equally operative in either sphere. 



2/2 THE THEISTIC ARGUMENT. 

The conclusion here reached is one of so much 
importance that it may be well, before going further, 
to indicate more fully the grounds on which it rests. 
And here let me repeat what I have stated before, 
that this whole argument in which we are engaged 
proceeds from facts. I am not attempting an a pri- 
ori, but an a posteriori, demonstration. My steady 
aim from the beginning has been, not to reason from 
abstract premises, but from the evident and acknowl- 
edged phenomena of nature and of life, not from the 
unknown to the known, but from the known to the 
unknown. We began with the facts given in the ex- 
ternal world ; from those we argued back to an in- 
telligent cause ; we proceeded next to the facts of 
human consciousness, and from those argued back 
to a moral cause. We are now, in the same way, 
dealing with the facts of human history, viewed on 
a large scale, and in their manifest connections. But 
our present starting-point, just as much as when we 
fixed our gaze upon the uniform movements of the 
heavenly bodies, or the arrangements of man's phys- 
ical frame, is the domain of facts. Of these human 
history, in its various forms of written annals, lit- 
erature, art, institutions, manners, philosophy, relig- 
ion, is simply the record. Not only is the history 
of man, taken as a whole, a great fact, but it is the 
greatest of all facts of which we can have any direct 
knowledge. Without any disparagement of the nat- 
ural sciences, and recognizing to the fullest extent 
the enormous and splendid progress of physical dis- 
covery in our own time, I still assert, with confi- 
dence, that man and his achievements still form the 
noblest and most interesting subject of human in- 
quiry. As the highest product of nature is human 



1 



HISTORY AND A MORAL PURPOSE. 2/3 

intelligence and human character, so the investiga- 
tion of the phenomena presented in human life opens 
the highest field of human research. We are borne, 
in this generation, on a great wave of physical dis- 
covery ; we are dazzled, for the moment, by the bril- 
liancy of the results which modern methods of phys- 
ical research have reached, yet the time can never 
come when moral and spiritual problems will not 
assert their rightful supremacy, and when, in our 
sober moments of reflection, we shall not acknowl- 
edge that man's destiny possesses for us a more 
vital interest than any other question. 

Now, contemplating human history as a whole, 
we are shut up to one of two alternatives. We may 
look at its successive phases simply as a series of 
disconnected facts, without order or design, without 
coherence or connection, without mutual dependence 
or relation. We may regard the great events of 
history as following one another in time, with no 
connection or relation as causes or effects, with no 
natural, or necessary, or designed antecedence or 
consequence. According to this theory, we may 
take any single event, or any given series of events, 
and may suppose that the antecedent course of 
events may have been wholly different, or even con- 
trary, or we may take any event, or series of events, 
and suppose that the consequences may have been 
wholly different or contrary. Thus we may suppose 
that our recent civil war may have broken out pre- 
cisely as it did, even had slavery never existed on 
this continent, and had these States never been com- 
bined in a federal Union ; or that the American Rev- 
olution may have pursued the precise course it did, 
and yet the great republic of the New World never 
18 



274 ^'^^ THEISTIC ARGUMENT. 

have been called into existence. For, according to 
this view, all events are disconnected and independ- 
ent, and one series of events has no causal relation 
to another. A theory so directly in the face of the 
manifest course of history might seem too absurd to 
be seriously maintained, yet it has found, at times, 
its theoretical defenders, and is practically main- 
tained in some current maxims and recognized prac- 
tices of society. And, at first sight, it must be 
admitted that some facts go to establish it. As in 
nature, so in human life there are many phenom- 
ena which refuse to be brought under any established 
theory ; and the story of man is the story of so much 
suffering, so much crime, so much bloodshed, so 
much oppression of the weak by the strong, so much 
triumph of evil over good, of so much disappoint- 
ment of cherished hopes, and so much failure to 
realize lofty ideals, that in hours of disappointment 
and despondency and sorrow it is not strange that 
even earnest souls have harbored the harrowing sus- 
picion that while law rules the physical world, only 
disorder and anarchy and blind chance control the 
movements of that higher sphere where man is left 
as a free agent to shape his own course. 

But, if we refuse to rest in this comfortless con- 
clusion, there is but one alternative remaining, and 
that is to accept the view already stated, that law 
pervades the spiritual as it pervades the natural 
world. One of these two conclusions we must adopt 
if we reflect upon human history and human des- 
tiny at all. In accepting the alternative, we are not 
required to define the precise sense in which we use 
the term law, we only assert it as the denial of an- 
archy and disorder. The choice is between chance 



HISTORY AND A MORAL PURPOSE. 275 

or law ; how we are to interpret law is a question to 
be considered later. Law is simply the contradic- 
tion of chance ; it denies what the theory of chance 
affirms, — incoherence and disorder in the sequence 
of events ; and it affirms what the theory of chance 
denies, — coherence and order in the sequence of 
events. If, therefore, we accept this theory of human 
history, events will be no longer viewed as discon- 
nected and discontinuous, but as intimately related 
to each other, as inseparably interwoven, and as mu- 
tually dependent. It regards the successive phases 
of human history, like the successive phases of indi- 
vidual life, as issuing one from another, and as stand- 
ing in the relation of cause and effect. 

And, however in moments of despondency we 
may be inclined to view the course of human history 
as an unmeaning and aimless struggle of conflicting 
forces, when we calmly review its successive phases 
in the light of sober reason we cannot content our- 
selves with anything short of this second view. We 
are forced to regard the events of history in the 
relation of cause and effect. And, if the study of 
history has made any progress in modern times, it 
has been precisely in the direction of viewing history 
as a connected whole, where the phenomena of one 
epoch find their rational explanation in the phenom- 
ena of a preceding. We instinctively take this view. 
In our habitual speech we talk of the growth of in- 
stitutions and of nations. He would, indeed, only 
expose himself to contempt and ridicule who should 
adopt any other language. We look upon the English 
constitution as having its roots far back in feudal 
society ; we account for the atrocities of the Reign 
of Terror from the shameless immorality and unbe- 



2/6 THE THEISTIC ARGUMENT. 

lief of the old regime. Thus we recognize the prin- 
ciple that the course of history is not swayed by 
chance, but that each age is what it is because of 
the ages that have gone before it. 

The principal objection to this view of history 
springs from its supposed antagonism to the free- 
dom of the human will. ' Those who deny that the 
course of human history and the successive phases 
of human society show any regular sequence and 
any trace of a pervading law, do so, for the most 
part, on the ground that such a theory would inevi- 
tably degrade human action to the level of mere 
physical causation. Thus, for example, Goldwin 
Smith, in combating the idea that any scientific 
method can be applied to history, asserts that it 
would make man a beast or a blade of grass, that 
it establishes a contradiction between our outward 
observation and our inner consciousness, and makes 
us render up our personality, and become a mere 
link in a chain of causation, a mere grain in a mass 
of being. If history is governed by fixed laws, con- 
science becomes an illusion, and any rule of right 
action is rendered, in the nature of the case, impos- 
sible. Such an objection, if well grounded, is a most 
formidable one, and if consequences like these inev- 
itably follow, it is not strange that so many have 
revolted from the notion that there is a necessary 
sequence in human events. 

But no one will question for a moment that indi- 
vidual character is a growth, and that from infancy 
and youth to mature years there is in each one of 
us a continuous process of development, where each 
stage is the result of preceding stages, and where the 
whole conforms to a uniform and regular order. AD 



HISTORY AND A MORAL PURPOSE. 2 77 

our systems of education are based upon this princi- 
ple. Yet, in thus developing according to a law of 
growth, we do not suppose that the will is fettered, 
or that personality suffers any invasion of its rights. 
I do not design here to enter into any discussion of 
the old problem, in what the freedom of the will 
consists ; all that I wish to assert is, that whatever 
view we may take of the freedom of the human will, 
we do not view it as inconsistent with a develop- 
ment of the individual such as is seen to be in ac- 
cordance with uniform laws. And, when we turn 
from the individual to the larger man which we term 
society, there is no more reason to suppose that there 
is any necessary conflict. In other words, if we 
admit a sequence in the individual there is no rea- 
son for denying it in the race. If the freedom of 
the will is reconcilable with the one hypothesis, it 
must be reconcilable with the other also. 

But, in fact, the freedom of the will is a purely 
metaphysical problem with which the student of his- 
tory, as such, has nothing to do. His concern, as I 
have said before, is simply with the facts that history 
presents. If these facts, viewed on a large scale, are 
seen to be connected, if they manifestly follow a cer- 
tain order, if they are shown, beyond doubt, to be 
connected as cause and effect, as antecedent and 
consequent, the student of history has no right to 
ignore, or to set aside, such phenomena simply for 
the reason that he cannot reconcile them with his 
theory of human freedom. He is bound to reason 
from the facts as they are, not from the facts as he 
would like to find them. And if he holds fast to the 
testimony of his own consciousness that he is a free 
and responsible agent, he is bound to believe that 



278 THE THEISTIC ARGUMENT. 

this is not irreconcilable with regular development 
of historical events, even though he does not see 
how such reconciliation can be effected. But the 
immediate question is simply one of fact, and this 
question must be answered, not by analyzing con- 
sciousness, but by searching the broad page of his- 
tory itself. Here we must look for the proof that 
human affairs conform to law. 

We may dismiss, then, without hesitation, as in- 
conclusive and irrelevant, any objection to the doc- 
trine that law pervades and controls the development 
of human society that is derived from the supposed 
conflict of such a theory with human freedom. And 
not only may we take this negative ground, but we 
may go further and assert without hesitation, that 
as human character cannot be conceived of apart 
from the shaping influence of law, so human society 
cannot be conceived of if law, in the same way, does 
not enter into it. For, as we have seen, there are 
but two alternatives, chance or law ; no third hy- 
pothesis is possible. So that, unless we are pre- 
pared to admit that all the marvelous growth of hu- 
man civilization is the product of blind chance, the 
actual result being simply one out of countless myr- 
iads of possible results that might have come to 
pass but did not, we must adopt the only other hy- 
pothesis, that the course of human society, from the 
beginning, has been shaped by some guiding princi- 
ple, and that even into those phenomena which seem 
most wayward and anomalous, the causes of which 
elude our closest scrutiny, law has also entered. 

The question, then, whether the phenomena of 
society, considered on a large scale, indicate a pres- 
ence and operation of law analogous to that wit- 



HISTORY AND A MORAL PURPOSE. 279 

nessed in the physical universe, is a question of fact, 
to be determined simply by an investigation of the 
phenomena themselves. And here it is needless to 
remark that, in entering upon such an investigation, 
we must be prepared to encounter difficulties far 
more formidable than any which we encounter in the 
study of mere physical phenomena. We not only 
have presented a different class of facts, but facts 
which submit themselves far less readily to analysis 
and comparison. The facts comprised in this survey 
are all the facts which relate to man as a spiritual 
being. While in one sense, as facts of conscious- 
ness, they lie before each one of us, in another sense, 
as a series of historical phenomena, they lie far re- 
moved from us, and cannot be accurately ascertained. 
It is only, in fact, when we regard them in their 
broadest aspects, and in their most general relations 
and tendencies, that we can reason about them with 
entire confidence. It is only to the larger phases 
and aspects which humanity presents that we can 
make our appeal. 

Astronomy was the earliest science to become es- 
tablished, and for the simple reason that astronomy 
dealt with phenomena about which there could be no 
dispute, and which were perpetually recurring. The 
speech which one night uttered was repeated by the 
next. The observer who was in doubt respecting 
the movements of one of the heavenly bodies, had 
but to turn again his optic glass to the same quarter, 
and he saw the same movement a second time. So 
in physical investigation, if there is any doubt re- 
specting the result of an experiment, the same ex- 
periment can be repeated. The chemist has on his 
table all the conditions of his search. But in the 



280 THE THEISTIC ARGUMENT. 

evolution of society, neither do the phenomena re- 
cur, nor can they be repeated at the will of the 
observer. There is an endless succession of phe- 
nomena, a stream of causes and effects, in whose 
restless tide the observer himself is borne along. It 
is therefore obvious that we cannot speak of the laws 
of history in the same precise sense in which we 
speak of mathematical or physical laws. What we 
mean by social or historical laws are simply certain 
tendencies seen when we view the events of history 
on a larg scale and for long successive periods. 

A favor te argument with those who reject the 
doctrine that the movements of human society re- 
veal the presence of general laws, is based on the 
objection that the so-called science of history has 
shown itself thus far unable to predict the course of 
events. The astronomer, we are told, can predict 
an eclipse ; if the study of history is capable of be- 
ing reduced to scientific method, let the student of 
history predict a revolution. Mr. Froude and Prof. 
Goldwin Smith have both urged this objection as a 
conclusive settlement of the dispute. Can you im- 
agine a science, asks the former, which could have 
foretold such movements as Mohammedanism or 
Buddhism } ^ " Prediction," says the latter, " the 
crown of all science, the new science of man and his- 
tory has not yet ventured to put on. That preroga- 
tive, which is the test of her legitimacy, she has not 
yet ventured to exert." ^ But in the objection here 
urged, there is a singular confusion of ideas. In 
what sense is prediction the crown of science } The 
title of science will hardly be refused to geometry, 

1 [Short Studies on Great Sjibjects (The Science of History), p. 20.] 

2 [Lectures on the Study of History (New York : 1866), p. 56.] 



HISTORY AND A MORAL PURPOSE. 28 1 

yet in what sense does geometry predict ? Geology 
is reckoned among the sciences ; but does geology 
undertake to show what changes will be witnessed 
hereafter in the structure of the earth ? And even 
of astronomy, it is evident that prediction can be 
affirmed only in a very limited and partial sense, 
Strictly speaking, the astronomer predicts nothing ; 
he only conditionally affirms that, if the conditions 
of the physical universe continue to be, at some 
future time, precisely what they are to-day, certain 
results will follow. Thus he is able to say that, if 
the solar system remains precisely as it now is, a 
transit of Venus will take place a thousand years 
from now ; but whether the solar system will remain 
the same he has no means of knowing. We only 
know that our whole solar system is rushing with 
inconceivable rapidity through space ; what danger 
may await it as it approaches other constellations 
the wisest astronomer will not venture to affirm. 
When we turn to a science like biology, the range of 
prevision is very small indeed. He would be a bold 
physician who would undertake to tell the day and 
hour when any one of us is destined to shuffle off 
his mortal coil ; yet we do not doubt that physiology 
is a science, that the modifications in our physical 
frames are governed by fixed laws, and that the 
causes are now in operation destined, sooner or later, 
to bring about the death of every one of us. So 
little is prediction the crown of science ! 

All that can be fairly claimed for a science of his- 
tory, or of human society, is that the phenomena of 
history undeniably exhibit certain tendencies ; that 
these tendencies are uniform and point to a definite 
result, and that this can be rationally accounted for 



282 THE THEISTIC ARGUMENT. 

only on the hypothesis that certain fixed and uni- 
form principles pervade and control the entire pro- 
cess. Beyond this we cannot go. The pretentious 
claims that have been put forward in certain quar- 
ters, the crude generalizations that have been set up 
as ascertained laws, the audacious assertion that the 
course of human events can be dissected and anal- 
yzed and set forth in its necessary relations with the 
precision and certainty with which we determine the 
movements of the heavenly bodies, or ascertain the 
affinities of chemical elements, or trace the complex 
phenomena of organic life, have served only to bring 
the most elevated and inspiring of all studies into 
the contempt of sober and cautious thinkers ; and 
no one has contributed more to this unfortunate re- 
sult than a writer with whom the scientific study of 
history has been in our own time especially identi- 
fied, the late Henry Thomas Buckle. 

The simple question that we have to consider is 
whether the history of the race, surveyed from its 
beginning, shows a consecutive and onward move- 
ment from one condition to another. In other 
words, has there been any such thing as progress in 
human history. Such an inquiry would seem to be 
one that answers itself. How can we, it may be 
asked, for a moment question that such is the fact. 
How can we give the most cursory glance at human 
history, and doubt that advancement has been its 
constant and unmistakable characteristic } The 
problem is, however, less simple than at first sight 
may appear. When we note, not simply the more 
favored races, but the whole human family, not 
progress, but stagnation, or even decline, seems to 
be the rule. We see more signs of decay and of 



HISTORY AND A MORAL PURPOSE. 283 

death than of life. Social and intellectual move- 
ment seems effectually checked. Sir Henry Maine 
asserts that the communities that have attained a 
conspicuous degree of civilization are, after all, but 
the minority of mankind. And when we survey 
the whole course of history, we are struck with the 
fact that certain memorable epochs were epochs of 
undeniable decline. 

When, therefore, we assert progress as the law of 
human society, it is obvious that this cannot be as- 
serted as a universal and constant characteristic. 
Neither is progress characteristic of any one state 
of society, considered as a whole, nor is it the uni- 
form characteristic of each successive state. By 
the side of progressive nations are seen nations 
whose social state is stagnant, and between epochs 
of onward movement come epochs of decline. By 
some of the earliest in modern times who main- 
tained man's progressive nature, progress was as- 
serted as something necessary and universal, as an 
occult tendency in society, always and everywhere 
manifesting its presence. A more comprehensive 
study of the history of the race has modified this 
view. Man is no longer contemplated as moving 
towards perfection in accordance with a uniform and 
universal law, as in the dreams of some of the 
social reformers of the last century. All that is 
claimed is that, on the whole, there is a progress 
from worse to better, and that, in the long run, 
the history of the race affords indubitable proof 
that man has advanced, and that this progress is the 
prominent feature, if not of the most numerous, yet 
of the most conspicuous races of men. 

In ascertaining, therefore, the fact of progress, it 



284 THE THEISTIC ARGUMENT, 

is not necessary to prove that progress has been the 
characteristic of all races, or of all ages. Yet it 
seems evident that these states of society which 
now appear most fixed, where all onward movement 
has been completely arrested, must at some time 
have been progressive, simply to have reached the 
present state. Hence the characteristic in which 
they are now most conspicuously deficient they 
must have unmistakably exhibited at some earlier 
stage of their existence. And so, too, epochs of 
decline may be conditions of new epochs of prog- 
ress ; the receding wave only adding to the force 
and volume of the next rush of waters. The fall of 
the Western Empire paved the way for the new and 
more vigorous civilization of the Middle Age, and 
the corruptions of Latin Christianity furnished a 
most powerful stimulus to the reform of the six- 
teenth century. So that when we look at the his- 
tory of the race as a whole, when we study its suc- 
cessive epochs in their relation one to another, we 
shall find little difficulty in assenting to the propo- 
sition that progress has been the characteristic of 
human society. 

To furnish a proof of this broad proposition, even 
in its merest outline, would carry me far beyond the 
limits of the present discussion. The proof is the 
whole history of man, viewed in every line of his 
social, his political, or his intellectual life. And 
not simply that brief portion of his career covered 
by written records, or traditions preserved in litera- 
ture, but all that has been recovered of his primeval 
story by comparison of languages, and by the labo- 
rious accumulation of the rude memorials that he 
has left behind of his early presence on our earth. 



HISTORY AND A MORAL PURPOSE. 285 

From all this vast array of facts but one conclusion 
can be derived, and that is that the human race has 
reached its present high stage of civilization by a 
slow and gradual process, a process not, indeed, 
always uniform, nor always constant, but yet so 
marked and evident in its results as to constitute 
the great and decisive fact in human history. It is, 
indeed, as a great writer, the late M. Guizot, has 
truly said, what we mean by civilization. We can- 
not disconnect the term from the idea of progress, 
either in the individual or in society. Nor is there 
any accounting for man's present state, save on this 
hypothesis. 

In thus asserting the fact of progress it is not 
necessary for us to commit ourselves to any of the 
explanations of it that have been attempted. How 
much of truth there may be in any of these theories 
is a question that should be kept distinct from the 
main question that we are now considering. We may 
dismiss without hesitation the theories of Vico and 
Comte and Buckle, but that will not affect, in the 
least, the great fact with which we are dealing. It 
may be that the ultimate law of human progress lies 
wholly beyond our reach, but this need not weaken 
our conviction that there is a law. True, as has been 
claimed, history is a process, a drama but partially 
unfolded, whose conclusion we cannot even guess, 
a perpetually flowing stream ; yet as we gaze at an 
unfinished sketch, we may be convinced that every 
stroke of the pencil had a purpose, though we can- 
not guess what was the perfect picture which the 
artist was aiming to represent ; and as we stand by 
the bank of a broad river we may see that its cur- 
rent is steadily moving in one direction, though we 



286 THE THEISTIC ARGUMENT. 

know not where are the mountain rills that feed it, 
or where, at last, it loses itself in the far-sounding 
sea. 

But the question still remains to be considered 
with which our present argument is directly con- 
cerned, that is, whether this progress of society in- 
volves a moral progress. One does not seem of ne- 
cessity involved in the other, and the admission of 
one does not carry with it, of course, the admission 
of the other. The fact of a physical, a social, and 
an intellectual progress is conceded by some who 
deny that the history of the race furnishes evidence 
of any moral progress. This, to go no farther, was 
the view so strongly maintained by the late Mr. 
Buckle, No one in our time has laid down so 
broadly the doctrine that the evolution of society 
is subject to laws, but these laws, he maintains, are 
purely intellectual, and these intellectual forces are 
the only motive power in the onward movement of 
society. Moral truths are stationary, only intel- 
lectual truths are progressive. And hence, as an 
element in civilization, he argues the superiority of 
intellectual acquisitions over moral feeling, and 
claims that the development of humane sentiments 
in modern times is due, not to any elevation of 
moral tone, but to increased intelligence. Accord- 
ing to this view, human progress affords no evi- 
dence of moral growth. 

Though Mr. Buckle has, perhaps, pushed this view 
further than any other, he by no means stands alone 
in it. Sir James Mackintosh went almost as far. 
" Morality," he says, " admits of no discoveries. 
More than three thousand years have elapsed since 
the composition of the Pentateuch ; and let any man, 



HISTORY AND A MORAL PURPOSE. 28/ 

if he is able, tell me in what important respect the 
rule of life has varied since that distant period. The 
fact is evident that no improvement has been made 
in practical morality. From the countless variety 
of the facts with which the physical and speculative 
sciences are conversant, it is impossible to prescribe 
any bounds to their future improvement. It is oth- 
erwise with morals. They have hitherto been sta- 
tionary, and, in my opinion, they are likely forever 
to continue so." ^ And Lord Macaulay only echoed 
these sentiments of Sir James Mackintosh in the 
well-known essay upon the Church of Rome, in 
which he sought to account for the fact that since 
the Reformation the relative strength of Romanism 
and Protestantism has remained essentially the same. 
In a brilliant passage he essays to prove the propo- 
sition that, with regard to the great problems of 
man's spiritual nature, a highly educated European, 
without revelation, is no more likely to be in the 
right than a Blackfoot Indian.^ 

I have no hesitation in dismissing this as a most 
superficial and erroneous view of human progress, 
and a view directly contradicted by some of the best 
authenticated facts of history. As it is a most nar- 
row theory that would interpret all the most impor- 
tant social phenomena as due solely or chiefly to 
physical causes, such as climate, race, soil, so is it an 
equally narrow theory that would recognize in these 
phenomena only an intellectual factor. Civilization 
is a slow and complex process, a process involving 
not only physical, but mental and moral elements, 

1 \Life of Mackintosh, by his Son, vol. i., p. 120.] 

2 [Review of Ranke's History of the Popes ; Works, Am. ed., vol. 
iv., p. 303.] 



288 THE THEISTIC ARGUMENT. 

and in the progress of rational beings, these latter 
are by far the most considerable. Mr. Buckle would 
account for the change from the wandering Arab of 
the desert — homeless and uninstructed — to the 
cultivated race which has left the memorials of its 
taste and intelligence in the structures of Delhi and 
Granada, simply from the fact that they had changed 
from a sandy and barren soil to fertile tracts, wholly 
forgetting that what prompted to this change, and 
launched the Arab race on this new course, was the 
prodigious spiritual revolution effected in their ideas 
of life and duty by the teachings of their great 
prophet. 

Would even Lord Macaulay, with all his love of 
paradox, venture to assert that, in the general range 
of their moral ideas, the Eskimo and the European 
are on a level } that the principles which regulate 
family life and social and political duty, are not more 
advanced in England, to-day, than on the day when 
Hengist and Horsa landed. And if it be replied, that 
what Sir James Mackintosh and Lord Macaulay had 
in mind were simply those speculative problems re- 
specting which unaided reason has been so little 
able to reach a satisfactory answer, and not the 
practical conceptions of moral duty, the further ques- 
tion arises, whether the two can be divided, and 
whether the practical conclusions, which men reach 
at any time, are not shaped by their speculative 
views. The physical, the intellectual, and the moral 
elements in civilization are in fact always connected, 
and what affects the one, sooner or later, affects the 
other also. A mechanical invention, as the steam- 
engine or the telegraph, may indirectly, but power- 
fully, affect the moral relations of a community, and 



HISTORY AND A MORAL PURPOSE. 289 

the practical convictions of duty which sway a peo- 
ple, or an age, always have their roots, more or less 
distinctly recognized, in speculative opinion. 

Here, again, let us remember that the question is 
simply one of fact, to be determined by an investi- 
gation of phenomena. Looking at the history of the 
race in its broadest aspects, contrasting its most 
widely separated periods, placing side by side the 
controlling opinions and convictions of the most 
primitive and rudest and of the latest and most civ- 
ilized races, have we any evidence afforded that the 
general moral level has been raised } The question 
at first sight is intricate, but yet not really so diffi- 
cult as it would seem. For the great facts in the 
history of the race are always the most manifest 
facts. We may dispute without arriving at any sat- 
isfactory result, about the character of an individual, 
or the value of a dynasty. Opinions are still divided 
respecting Hildebrand, and Henry VHL, and Mary 
Stuart. But the grand lineaments and characteris- 
tics of an epoch, or of a man, are set forth in such a 
variety of ways, and perpetuated in so many unde- 
signed memorials and authentic monuments, that we 
can be rarely in doubt respecting them. And the 
moral characteristics, especially of a people or an 
age, are illustrated in such a variety of ways that 
there can be little dispute about them. 

Let us take, for 'example, two such significant 
epochs as those illustrated respectively in the Tro- 
jan war and the Crusades. Both were European en- 
terprises, undertaken against Asia, and both, in their 
general tenor and characteristics, have been faithfully 
mirrored in literature. For whatever may be our 
theory respecting the origin of the Homeric poems, 
19 



290 THE THE IS TIC ARGUMENT. 

whether we see in them the impress of one mind, or 
view them as a collection of ballads, sung originally 
by different bards, we cannot doubt that they faith- 
fully picture the heroic age. They are in all re- 
spects as authentic memorials of that early civiliza- 
tion, as the chronicles of the Crusades, of Ville- 
hardouin and Joinville, are memorials of mediaeval 
life. At first sight those widely separated periods 
seem equally periods of war and carnage, periods of 
the exhibition of the cruel traits of human nature ; 
but only a superficial examination is needed to re- 
veal the essential contrast between the two, to show 
us how beneath the rudeness and ferocity of medi- 
aeval war lurked the germs of the finer sentiments 
that distinguish modern society ; how chivalry was 
there, with its regard for the weak ; how the spirit of 
brotherhood was there, destined at length to break 
down the odious barriers of class. 

The broad question as to the reality of a moral 
progress of humanity may be best answered by se- 
lecting some single conspicuous illustrations. Here, 
as before, when speaking of intellectual progress, let 
us bear in mind that the movement for which we 
contend has been by no means universal, and has 
been often intermitted, and has its periods of deca- 
dence and relapse alternating with those of progress. 
It is only a progress on the whole that can be shown. 
But let us glance, for example, at a relation in which 
the play of moral sentiment is especially conspic- 
uous, — the relation of the family, — and see, if 
we can, whether the sentiments of civilized, show 
any advance upon the sentiments of uncivilized 
races. Take the notion of primitive marriage, which 
we find so widely diffused ; which made the wife the 



HISTORY AND A MORAL PURPOSE. 29 1 

prize of conquest, or the result of purchase ; which 
placed her completely in the power of her new mas- 
ter, a household drudge, to be used or discarded at 
his will, and then ask ourselves whether the relation 
of the sexes, in modern times, does not show an im- 
provement over this, — an improvement not merely 
in physical condition, but in the whole legal and 
moral status. 

Take another great characteristic feature of human 
society, in its successive stages of development from 
barbarism to civilization, — the conception of criminal 
legislation. Note how, in the early ages, crime is 
always regarded as simply an injury done an individ- 
ual, to be punished by personal vengeance, or, at 
most, atoned for by compensation to the injured 
party, with no attempt to measure the degree of 
moral culpability, and no recognition of any relation 
to the public weal ; and then contrast with this the 
criminal legislation of the most civilized societies of 
modern times ; note how crimes are discriminated, 
how the motives and temptations of the offender are 
carefully weighed, how his offense is looked at, not 
as a mere private injury, but as a violation of public 
order, to be punished, not by the injured party, but 
by the authorized representative of the whole social 
body ; how, above all, into criminal legislation a 
wholly new idea has insinuated itself, and punish- 
ment has been made a means for the reformation 
of the offender, and then ask whether, in its long 
onward march, the moral sentiments of the race 
have not been modified and expanded. 

But the most impressive evidence of the gradual 
modification of the moral standard of the race will 
be found in the contrast presented in the interna- 



292 THE THE IS TIC ARGUMENT. 

tional relations of races and states. In the earliest 
periods these will uniformly be found to be hostile. 
Members of the same tribe were brethren, but mem- 
bers of different tribes were enemies. They had no 
relations, and could conceive of no relations, but re- 
lations of hostility. A state of war was the state of 
nature. This is the condition, to-day, of all savage 
tribes. Those who are familiar with the recent vol- 
umes of travel in Central Africa will need no descrip- 
tion of what this condition is. The first step out 
of this is where tribes, kindred in blood, or profess- 
ing the same religion, are banded together. But all 
outside this charmed circle are still regarded in the 
light of foes. No leagues made with them are bind- 
ing ; if resident without the confederacy they can 
acquire no civil rights. These are still limited by 
blood. The Hellenic states, in the epoch of their 
palmiest civilization, did not get beyond this line. 
The terms Greek and barbarian, expressed and per- 
petuated the profound antithesis that ran through 
their whole civilization. 

First in the beneficent expansion of the Roman 
code do we come in contact with a wider conception 
of the relations of races and nations. The universal 
empire of Rome inevitably prepared the way for this 
by blending nations and races together, and by com- 
pelling the recognition of mutual rights. Roman 
law, as developed especially by the praetorian edict, 
is the proud monument of this march of moral ideas. 
That there was a universal right binding on all na- 
tions alike now came to be recognized. And, on 
this foundation of natural right, the modern science 
of international law was first erected ; and step by 
step a code of international ethics has been devel- 



HISTORY AND A MORAL PURPOSE, 293 

oped, and a moral sentiment, common to civilized 
nations, has come into being, and the great truth is 
recognized, that the nations of the earth are made of 
one blood and form one common family. But how 
vast the interval between the relations of savage 
tribes, which rested only on force and recognized no 
law but the law of the strongest, and the humane 
principles which regulate the relations of modern 
states, which emphasize the peaceful rather than the 
hostile relations of nations, and which, while permit- 
ting war, have still done so much to remove or miti- 
gate its horrors ! 

These cursory statements are not adduced as proof 
of the proposition that the history of the race is 
marked by moral progress, but rather for the pur- 
pose of illustrating the kind of proof that might be 
presented did the limits of our discussion allow. I 
have selected only a few of the most salient speci- 
mens out of many. But enough has been said to 
show that the doctrine of the moral progress of the 
race rests upon the same evidence as that of its intel- 
lectual progress. The two are but different aspects 
of the same subject, for in the complex movement of 
civilization the moral and intellectual factors can no 
more be separated than in the development of indi- 
vidual character. The most recent school of histor- 
ical science, in opposition to Comte and Buckle, 
strongly emphasize the moral element in social 
progress. According to Mr. Spencer, the essential 
conditions of development in social progress are the 
community and its environment. The environment 
of a community comprises all the circumstances to 
which the community is in any way obliged to con- 
form its actions, including not only its physical 



294 ^^^ THEISTIC ARGUMENT. 

conditions, such as climate, natural productions, geo- 
graphical contour, but also the ideas, feelings, cus- 
toms, and observances of past times, so far as they 
are preserved by literature, by traditions, and by mon- 
uments, as well as contemporary manners and opin- 
ions, so far as they are regarded by the community. 
The environment of a community, therefore, in- 
cludes spiritual as well as physical factors ; and, as 
civilization advances, the relative importance of the 
former constantly increases. From age to age, the 
environment of a community is slowly but inces- 
santly changing, and to these gradual changes the 
community is continually adapting itself. Thus the 
entire organized experience of each generation adds 
an element to the environment of the next genera- 
tion, so that the circumstances to which each new 
generation is required to conform are somewhat dif- 
ferent from the circumstances to which the genera- 
tion preceding was required to conform ; and thus, 
by its own spiritual activity, the community is con- 
tinually modifying its environment. The application 
of the principle of evolution to social progress, there- 
fore, recognizes civilization as a process in which 
the whole nature of man is concerned, a process in 
which the supreme and determining factors are not 
physical but spiritual, and, therefore, must be re- 
garded as showing a great advance, not only over 
the view of Mr. Buckle, but over all views which 
regard the moral conceptions of man as stationary. 

The final conclusion to which we are brought in 
this discussion is, that history, like nature and hu- 
man life, constitutes a process, the successive parts 
of which have a certain organic connection with 
each other; that its successive stages show, both 



HISTORY AND A MORAL PURPOSE. 295 

with regard to its intellectual and its moral features, 
a tendency which can only be explained from the 
presence and operation of some controlling princi- 
ple. There is, on the whole, a movement, and that 
movement is in the direction of improvement. And, 
whatever theory we may adopt to account for these 
phenomena, even though we should adopt to its full 
extent the theory of social evolution so elaborately 
marked out by Mr. Spencer, we have still, as in the 
case of physical evolution, the process itself to ac- 
count for. For, what we are pleased to term the 
laws of history, like the laws of nature, are simply 
abstract statements of a regular .recurrence of facts. 
The efficient cause must lie further back, the mere 
conception of abstract law does not meet the diffi- 
culty. Hence, alike in nature and in history, we 
are led back to the conception of a supreme control- 
ling will. 

But, further, as the supreme fact revealed in his- 
tory is moral progress, this order of the world, which 
we have been brought to recognize, must be a moral 
order, and thus the facts of human history, viewed 
in their broadest aspect, go directly to confirm the 
verdict already rendered by human consciousness. 
In other words, when we sound the depths of our 
own moral nature, or when we fly abroad on the 
great stream and tendency of human affairs ; when 
we look at ourselves as individuals, or when we look 
at the race as a mighty whole, we find the same 
great truth illustrated, — that we are under a govern- 
ment of moral laws ; and we are forced, as an inevi- 
table consequence, to clothe the supreme cause with 
moral attributes. Thus the twofold argument from 
external nature and from man is completed. " No 



296 THE THEISTIC ARGUMENT. 

one can intelligently accept this truth without per- 
ceiving that it is the key-stone of the great arch of 
nature and life, of society, of polity, and of history. 
The phenomena and laws of history can be under- 
stood and explained only by the admission of this 
great central conception of a supreme will embra- 
cing, directing, and controlling all things, all beings, 
and all events, in all space, and in all time." ^ 

1 Adam, Theories of History, p. 314. 



LECTURE X. 

PERSONALITY AND THE INFINITE. 

In my argument thus far I have followed strictly 
an inductive method. My attempt throughout has 
been to reason from the known to the unknown, 
from the seen to the unseen, from the undisputed 
and accepted facts of external nature and conscious- 
ness to the principles by which alone they can be 
explained. We have considered the phenomena 
presented in the universe around us, and the phe- 
nomena attested in human consciousness and in the 
history of the race, and have confined ourselves to 
the evident logical inferences which these involved. 
We found ourselves in the presence of facts, and 
these facts demanded explanation. We have pushed 
our conclusions no further than these explanations 
required. And, if I have not been wholly astray in 
my reasoning, I have succeeded in showing that 
the physical universe, as a great fact or result, de- 
mands for its explanation a cause ; that the vari- 
ous and complicated arrangements of the universe 
prove this cause to have been intelligent, and that 
the phenomena of human consciousness and of hu- 
man history, equally warrant us in ascribing to this 
cause the attributes of a moral being. 

And further, what has been the principal aim of 
this whole discussion, I have sought to show that 
these arguments have not been essentially affected 



298 THE THEISTIC ARGUMENT. 

by any of the recent speculations respecting the na- 
ture of matter and force, or the process by which 
the present universe has been evolved out of pre- 
ceding conditions. We have seen that, whatever 
theory we may adopt with regard to the method of 
creation, the problem remains the same, and far 
back as we may push our researches into the his- 
tory of the physical universe, the same question 
confronts us, a question which can neither be an- 
swered nor set aside by any conclusions of physical 
science. Conceding all that is claimed by the most 
extreme advocates of evolution, and allowing its ap- 
plication, not only in the sphere of physical nature, 
but in the sphere of intellectual and moral action, 
it is still, when rightly understood, simply a method, 
a method implying the existence of suitable agents, 
requiring constant and new adjustments, leading 
logically back to an intelligent source, and hence 
only adding new support to the arguments for a 
supreme cause, which it was erroneously supposed 
to contradict. 

But if we now pause for a moment and carefully 
review all that we have thus far sought to establish, 
it will be seen at once that all this by no means com- 
pletes the theistic argument. If we stop here we 
stop very far short of the proposition which we set 
out to establish. We have, in fact, laboriously 
climbed up this lofty eminence, only to see more 
clearly how far above us still rises the summit which 
we are seeking to scale. For, even should it be 
conceded that everything claimed in the foregoing 
discussion has been established, it may still be ob- 
jected, and objected with reason, that it does not 
amount to a demonstration of the existence of God, 



PERSONALITY AND THE INFINITE. 299 

in the full sense in which that august term is com- 
monly understood. Granted that the existence of 
a material universe requires us to suppose a cause, 
granted that to that supreme cause must be attrib- 
uted the characteristics of intelligence and good- 
ness, granted that the history of the world shows, 
on the whole, such a tendency as implies a moral 
government, still, it may be claimed, there is noth- 
ing in all this that proves this first cause to be in- 
finite, eternal, and absolute in being and perfection ; 
yet without this we do not reach the idea of God. 
All our reasoning thus far has been from finite 
phenomena, and when from the finite we argue to 
the infinite, we take a great leap, for which we can 
plead no logical justification. Our whole argument 
has professed to rest on a basis of facts, and we 
have no right to push our inferences a step beyond 
the line which our facts mark out. The moment 
we pass this line we leave the solid ground of proof, 
and embark on the uncertain flood of fancy. What- 
ever of force there may be in the argument for a 
cause, still, it is claimed, this argument cannot lift 
us above the region of the contingent and the finite. 
All that we know of the connection of cause and ef- 
fect comes from our observation of phenomena 
within this sphere. And admitting the vahdity of 
the argument of design, it is still an argument from 
finite designs, and from an indefinite number of fi- 
nite designs we cannot infer an infinite designer. 
At best, we can only reach back to the idea of a 
grand artificer. The only valid inference, it is urged, 
from the phenomena of design would be that of 
a phenomenal first cause. The evidences of design 
do not warrant the inference of a being detached 
from, and independent of, these designs. 



300 THE THEISTIC ARGUMENT. 

The difficulty that here presents itself seems, in- 
deed, so insurmountable, the flaw in the argument 
at this point appears so fatal, and all that has been 
established falls so far short of the conclusion which 
alone can satisfy the reason, that not a few of the 
most devout and earnest advocates of theism have 
been moved to cast aside all inductive and a pos- 
teriori arguments, and to solve the problem in a 
more direct and summary method. Belief in the 
existence of God, it is claimed by those who adopt 
this method of reasoning, is a primary instinct of 
the soul which we can neither justify nor go behind. 
The idea of God exists in the mind as one of its ul- 
timate and ineradicable notions. Those who take 
this view do not deny that from finite sequences we 
may reason back to a first cause, but they deny that 
this first cause can be identified with a personal 
God. They do not, in the least, deny the proofs of 
design in nature, but they claim that these proofs 
of design have no theistic value until we have been 
first led to recognize the existence of a supreme 
mind in nature upon wholly different and indepen- 
dent grounds. The book of nature becomes illu- 
mined and radiant only to one who already be- 
lieves in God. 

It is not claimed by those who urge this argu- 
ment from intuition that all men are equally en- 
dowed with this faculty of immediately apprehend- 
ing divine things. On the contrary, the instinct in 
the soul to which this appeal is made, when it first 
appears is crude, dim, and inarticulate. It is grad- 
ually shaped into greater clearness by the myriad 
influences of education and tradition. It is there- 
fore no evidence against the reality or the trust- 



PERSONALITY AND THE INFINITE. 3OI 

worthiness of this intuition that its manifestations 
are not uniform in different periods ; that it even 
seems absent in some states of human consciousness, 
or in certain grades of civihzation. At times it may 
seem wholly to slumber, not only in individuals, but 
in a race or an era. But still it exists, and however 
crude in its elementary forms, always manifests it- 
self in its highest state as an act of intelligence and 
faith, as a direct gaze with the inner eye into the 
regions of spirit. While the God of the logical un- 
derstanding is a mere projected shadow of the mind 
itself, and while the argument of design is simply 
finite man drawing his own portrait upon the can- 
vas of infinity, to the eye of intuition is directly re- 
vealed the presence, behind phenomena, of a great 
and transcendent reality. 

It will be observed that the intuition of the exist- 
ence of God, which is here asserted, is direct and 
immediate. It is not the product of knowledge or 
reflection ; it does not come as the close, or comple- 
tion, of a process of rational investigation, but is the 
spontaneous impulse of the soul in presence of the 
object whose existence it attests. As such it is, of 
necessity, prior to any act of reflection. It cannot 
be regarded as, in any sense, the product of experi- 
ence. The main characteristic of this intuition is 
that it proclaims a supreme existence without and 
beyond the mind, which it apprehends in the act of 
revealing itself. Yet it is not without certain crite- 
rions of its trustworthiness. These are the persist- 
ence with which this intuition appears and reap- 
pears, the obstinacy with which it reasserts itself, 
and the tenacity with which it clings to us ; and 
further, its historical permanence, the confirmation 



302 THE THEISTIC ARGUMENT. 

which it receives from ages and generations ; and 
lastly, the inner harmony between this intuitive be- 
lief and the whole realm of man's psychological na- 
ture. An intuition which has raised and elevated 
man, and led him to walk in increasing light, has 
the most convincing evidence of trustworthiness. 

This short and easy method of settling the vexed 
problem of the divine existence would be sativsfac- 
tory if the existence of such universal and intuitive 
belief in God could be established. But if we are 
so made that we have a direct and immediate intui- 
tion of the existence of a supreme being, an intuition 
independent of all external evidence, a direct revela- 
tion to the soul, we may well inquire why has the 
question of the divine existence given rise to so 
much discussion. If the idea of God is a first prin- 
ciple, lying behind the earliest conscious exercise of 
reflection, recognized as part of the primary concep- 
tions which the mind forms, a spontaneous convic- 
tion needing no proof, waiting for no evidence, why 
should it have been so often called in question ? 
The assertion that man knows God by immediate 
intuition is, in fact, mere dogmatism. Those who 
profess to hold this theory so explain it, in many 
cases, as to show that they hold nothing of the kind. 
All that is found to be innate is a sense of depend- 
ence upon a higher power. None, in fact, but the 
most extreme school of mystics have consistently 
claimed an intuition of God independent of the ordi- 
nary laws of cognition. 

Such of you as have carefully followed the course 
of my argument up to this point will not need to be 
reminded that I have sedulously avoided drawing 
the illogical inference to which those who advocate 



PERSONALITY AND THE INFINITE. 303 

the theory of direct intuition so justly object. I have 
nowhere sought to make this leap from the finite to 
the infinite which is so strongly denounced. I have, 
throughout, restrained myself from urging these 
proofs from external nature, from human conscious- 
ness, or from history, as affording any complete and 
final demonstration of the divine existence and at- 
tributes. I have only presented them as the prelim- 
inary steps towards such a conclusion, and though I 
earnestly maintain that all of them, when taken to- 
gether, constitute a perfectly convincing argument, 
up to a certain point, yet I have nowhere asserted, 
or implied, that they yield the final result for which 
we have all along been seeking. Our work up to this 
stage has been preparatory ; we have been laying 
the foundations of a structure which yet remains to 
be finished; we have laboriously reared an arch, 
symmetrical and perfect indeed, but which will only 
fall to the ground unless the key-stone be fitted in. 

But, because all the arguments based on induction 
are confessedly incomplete, they should not be re- 
jected as illusory or worthless. Because they do 
not yield us the full proof that we want, we need 
not dismiss them as futile attempts to scale an in- 
accessible height. Though insufficient, they yet 
serve a most important purpose. They are the pre- 
liminary conditions of the final step by which the 
argument for the existence of God is completed. It 
cannot be questioned that the human mind conceives 
of the Supreme Being as absolute, as infinite, as eter- 
nal, as perfect ; and that it can never rest satisfied 
with a conception of deity that stops short of this. 
Neither the intellect, nor the heart, will accept the 
thought that the being whom they adore as God is 



304 THE THE IS TIC ARGUMENT. 

dependent on any antecedent or on any higher be- 
ing, that he is Hmited in his existence either in time 
or space, or that he is lacking in any conceivable 
perfection. The problem, then, now before us is to 
connect our conclusions thus far with this concep- 
tion of infinite and absolute being, to show that these 
attributes must be the attributes of the intelligent 
and righteous author of all things, whose existence 
the frame of nature and the constitution of man 
alike attest. 

To solve the problem here presented we shall be 
obliged to turn our attention to a region which we 
have not yet explored, and glance more closely than 
we have yet done at our own mental processes. We 
have thus far studied only the broad facts presented 
in human consciousness, we have not investigated 
the laws to which those phenomena are due. We 
have traced the operations of mind up to a certain 
point, but we have not yet asked how it reaches its 
supreme conclusions. In proceeding to make this 
further inquiry we not only do not need to cast 
aside, as worthless, the results which we have al- 
ready reached, but we do not even need to abandon 
the sober and safe method of inquiry which we have 
thus far followed. We are still dealing with facts, 
and, in any conclusions that we may reach, still ad- 
here to our inductive reasoning. Only, in the results 
which we now reach, we shall discover that, in all 
our reasoning, there are certain fundamental truths 
involved which induction does not give us, truths 
which we do not become possessed of by any logical 
process, but truths which are the original and funda- 
mental conditions of thought itself. 

According to one school of thinkers, a school very 



PERSONALITY AND THE INFINITE. 305 

widely represented at the present day, the mind de- 
rives all its knowledge, its maxims, and its prin- 
ciples, solely from observation and experience. In 
its modern form this doctrine dates from Locke, who 
in laboring to prove that the mind possessed no idea 
prior to experience, confounded the cause with the 
occasion of ideas, and held that the mind, before it 
received impressions through the senses, was a blank 
sheet, on which the record of experience was yet to 
be written. Thus all ideas were traced to a purely 
empirical source. Another school, which recognizes 
Leibnitz as its great leader, held that the mind is by 
nature endowed with certain aptitudes, dispositions, 
or faculties, by which it is put in immediate posses- 
sion of necessary and absolute truths. Because of 
a natural tendency the mind tends to grasp these 
truths. As present in the mind, before all experi- 
ence, these ideas may be termed innate. Carried to 
an extreme by Kant, these inner aptitudes became 
laws of thought, essential conditions of all intellec- 
tual acts, having validity for the mind itself, but for 
which no reality can be claimed when applied to the 
external world. 

What is the element of truth in this famous con- 
troversy .'' Abandoning without hesitation the claim 
set up by the transcendental school, that the reason 
gazes directly at the universal, eternal, and absolute, 
that it lives in immediate communion with the true, 
the beautiful, and the good, that without help, with- 
out external stimulus, without an intellectual process 
of any kind, it soars directly to this lofty sphere, let 
us ask whether between these two extremes of sen- 
sationalism and transcendentalism there may not be 

a middle ground. This controversy, like most con- 
20 , 



306 THE THE IS TIC ARGUMENT. 

troversies, has been complicated by the varying 
senses in which the terms used have been employed. 
Intuition is a word which modern science has been 
eager to banish from its vocabulary, and the mere 
mention of it may call forth a sneer from those who 
pride themselves upon a rigid adherence to the meth- 
ods of modern science. Mr. Spencer, while depart- 
ing in many respects from the maxims of the sen- 
sational school, still maintains that all our general- 
ized notions have become forms of thought simply 
from the fact that they have arisen from the organ- 
ized and consolidated experiences of countless for- 
mer generations. 

Is the mind, then, let us ask, endowed with any 
truth or principles, the recognition of which may 
be fairly termed intuition } The question is one to 
be answered by an examination of our mental proc- 
esses. What is the answer that consciousness gives 
us to this inquiry } At the outset we may concede 
without hesitation, that the mind is not possessed of 
innate ideas, in the sense in which that term is com- 
monly understood. In his argument against this 
view, Locke, it must be granted, gained the victory, 
though whether the doctrine of innate ideas was 
ever really maintained in the sense in which he de- 
nied it, may be questioned. We may also concede 
that the soul, at the outset of its conscious exist- 
ence, is not endowed with abstract notions of any 
kind. For all abstract notions, as, for example, the 
notions of substance or space, are the result of a 
mental process by which we separate the part from 
the whole, the quality from the substance to which 
it belongs. In the act of knowing the mind always 
starts with the singular and the concrete, and all our 



PERSONALITY AND THE INFINITE. 307 

general notions are the result of an operation by 
which we contemplate a number of separate objects 
as possessed of common attributes. 

Thus it must be granted, that however inaccurate 
many of Locke's statements, he was undoubtedly 
right in holding so strongly as he did that in the 
formation of our general ideas an element of previ- 
ous experience was always called into play. But this 
experience was not a cause, it was simply a condi- 
tion. It was not the primal source and fountain- 
head of thought, but simply determined the channel 
down which the stream of thought should flow. In 
this process the mind was not passive, like a sheet 
of paper, simply receiving and preserving the record 
of experience, but had a capacity of reacting upon 
the impressions of the senses. It was endowed 
with an originating potency ; and this potency of 
mind, like the potencies of matter, was not lawless 
and capricious in its action, but was subject to cer- 
tain laws and was controlled in its operation by fixed 
methods. And further, by careful observation and 
analysis, these laws can be arrived at, precisely as 
we arrive at the laws of the external world. By 
the operation of these laws the mind rises to the 
perception of absolute and necessary truth. They 
are a part of the mind ; their presence and control 
are attested as clearly as the laws of the physical 
universe. 

Even that very experience on which so much 
stress is laid, and which is, as we have seen, the es- 
sential condition of all our knowing, would avail us 
nothing but for this reaction of the mind upon the 
phenomena which experience makes known to us. 
Experience would, in fact, be nothing but a series of 



308 THE THEISTIC ARGUMENT. 

sensations or impressions, but for this generalizing 
faculty which coordinates the facts of experience, 
and enables us to contemplate them in a logical re- 
lation. To learn aright the very lessons of experi- 
ence, we need then, in the mind, something which 
experience cannot furnish. In this lies the essential 
distinction between the experience of man and the 
experience of the lower animals. They are endowed, 
in many cases, with keener perceptions than ours. 
Their experience, in many directions, must be far 
more acute. But there is, in them, no such power 
of reaction upon experience as we see in man. The 
vast fabric of human knowledge has been built up 
in this way. All the inductive sciences are rested 
upon this foundation. They imply and recognize 
principles not derived from experience. Astronomy 
rests on first truths respecting space and number 
and time ; and physical science on first truths re- 
specting force and matter. 

Thus all our reasoning proceeds on principles 
which cannot be found by reasoning, but must be 
assumed as intuitive truths. We cannot construct 
the simplest argument, we cannot convict an oppo- 
nent of error, we cannot justify to ourselves, even, 
the maxims which we hold to be true, without rec- 
ognizing mental principles which are either accepted 
as intuitive, or which lead us directly back to prin- 
ciples which are. The primary convictions of the 
mind are all of the nature of intuitions. These may 
arise either in connection with some external object, 
or in connection with some internal sentiment. 
Thus, when I see this desk before me, I intuitively 
recognize it as occupying space, though of space 
itself I neither have had nor can have any actual 



PERSONALITY AND THE INFINITE. 309 

experience. So a succession of events awakens 
the intuition of time, though time, like space, can 
be revealed to me by no positive apprehension. Let 
us notice, however, that these intuitions, though not 
derived from experience, are yet never called into 
existence without the help of experience. In other 
words, an intuition is not gazing at the absolute, but 
is always the perception of an object, or of some- 
thing connected with an object. Hence we are 
never directly conscious of the true, the beautiful, 
and the good, simply as such, but just as after con- 
templating a body that occupies space, we get the 
abstract idea of space, so after contemplating actions 
as good or evil, we get the notion of abstract moral 
qualities. These intuitive convictions can be gener- 
alized, and when generalized we are compelled to re- 
gard them as necessary truths. For the laws of men- 
tal action are analogous to the laws which regulate 
external nature. Like the physiological processes of 
the body, these intuitions depend on no action of the 
will ; on the contrary, they are often in most perfect 
action when we are most unconscious of their pres- 
ence. Yet, while analogous in their operation to the 
laws which we trace in external nature, they are of 
a higher order than any generalizations from mere 
external or physical facts. For they carry, in their 
very nature, a character of necessity or universality, 
and hence in an especial sense may claim to be re- 
garded as first principles. They are truths pertain- 
ing to our original constitution, and are the grounds 
of all knowledge. And while the study of them is 
more difficult and more delicate than the investiga- 
tion of ordinary truth, this need not weaken our con- 
viction of their reality, or cause our confidence to 
waver in our methods of establishing them. 



3IO THE THE IS TIC ARGUMENT. 

Let it be borne in mind that in all this we are 
not claiming any such transcendent and complete 
knowledge as carries with it an irrefragible assur- 
ance, nor supposing any such faculty of intuition as 
gives us direct cognizance of real existence. The 
only knowledge possible to beings constituted as we 
are is knowledge of the phenomena of conscious- 
ness, and the inferences which we draw from them. 
These necessary inferences from the phenomena of 
consciousness are sometimes called intuitions and 
sometimes primitive beliefs. Sir William Hamilton 
employs the latter term. He says, " Our knowl- 
edge rests ultimately on certain facts of conscious- 
ness, which as primitive, and consequently incom- 
prehensible, are given less in the form of cogni- 
tions than of beliefs. But if consciousness in its 
last analysis, — in other words, if our primary ex- 
perience be a faith, the reality of our knowledge 
turns on the veracity of our constitutive beliefs. 
As ultimate the quality of these beliefs cannot be 
inferred ; their truth, however, is in the first in- 
stance to be presumed." The particular name by 
which we describe them is, however, not a matter 
of importance. The essential thing is to recognize 
the fact that, without certain inferences transcend- 
ing phenomena, which the mind draws, we cannot 
conceive the external world, or make a distinction 
between the present and the past. 

And further, as we are simply dealing here with 
facts of consciousness, it does not matter what the- 
ory we adopt to account for these facts. As these 
intuitions present themselves to us, they appear in 
a completed state, and they have doubtless borne 
that character as long as we have known anything 



PERSONALITY AND THE INFINITE. 3 1 1 

about them. But it seems probable that we inherit 
natures which cannot but develop these results as 
soon as they develop at all. To recognize the fact 
that the present form of these intuitive convictions 
has been gradually established, is simply to recog- 
nize the fact that the rational history of their pro- 
duction is similar to that which marks a large por- 
tion of the universe as known to us. This is the 
explanation of the origin of our intuitive beliefs 
given by Mr. Spencer, that they are a habit of mind 
engendered by the antecedent experience of an in- 
definite series of ancestors. And for this explana- 
tion it is claimed that it completely reconciles the op- 
posing theories of the school of Locke and of Kant. 
But this explanation of their origin does not, in the 
least, affect the claim that to the human mind in its 
present matured and perfected state, they bear the 
character of immediate and necessary truths. The 
doctrine of evolution does not detract from, but 
truly considered, adds to their binding authority. 

Among the most evident and undeniable of these 
primary cognitions, or beliefs, which thus carry with 
them the characteristic of intuition, must be reck- 
oned our conviction of the infinite. This convic- 
tion, like every other intuitive conviction, will be 
found, on examination, not to exist in the mind as 
an innate idea, but is always connected with some 
positive cognition. That is, it does not appear 
full-blown at the dawn of consciousness, but in all 
cases arises after the mind has reached, through ex- 
perience, the perception of certain other truths. It 
is claimed by some that the finite mind can never 
have a conception of infinity, and that we only 
mock ourselves with words and phrases when we 



312 THE THE/STIC ARGUMENT. 

presume to talk about it. But while no one will 
deny that the human mind can form no conception 
of infinity, as we picture an object or recall a scene, 
or construct a mental image, it by no means follows 
that we can absolutely have no apprehension of the 
infinite. We constantly apprehend things of which 
we can distinctly frame no mental image, and while 
it is perfectly true that we can have no proper or 
adequate conception of infinity, and not less certain 
that we can never rise to it by any process of gen- 
eralization, it does not by any means follow from 
this that we may not have a real and positive appre- 
hension of it. We can have no conception, either of 
infinite space or of infinite time, but if we take the 
wings of morning and fly to the extremest verge of 
the material universe, we cannot then cast from 
us the conviction that immeasurable space still 
stretches beyond our utmost vision, or if we go 
back in time, through the illimitable periods of geo- 
logic or cosmic history, the background of a fathom- 
less eternity still rises up before us. Infinite space 
and infinite time are necessities of thought. They 
are conceptions which, indeed, we cannot grasp, 
but which we are equally unable to cast aside. We 
are persuaded of them not less irresistibly than we 
are persuaded of our own existence. We can con- 
ceive of neither, but we are equally unable to con- 
ceive that both do not exist. While they are in- 
exorable necessities of thought, they are not less 
supreme characteristics of human intelligence. Sir 
William Hamilton has represented this notion of 
infinity as a result of mental impotency. But it is 
not simply negative. It is in the truest sense a pos- 
itive conviction, and though any attempt to grasp it 



PERSONALITY AND THE INFINITE. 313 

only heightens our own sense of inadequacy, yet 
the mind is impelled by our active impulses to 
stretch after what it can never reach. 

If it be objected that, in making this inferen(!e, 
we are passing wholly beyond the bounds of knowl- 
edge, and the legitimate sphere of the human in- 
tellect, I reply, that we are doing so no more than 
when we arrive at the knowledge of anything out- 
side of our personal consciousness. When the 
man of science ascribes a real existence to any of 
the phenomena of external nature about which he 
reasons, he only infers that such is the fact. Rea- 
son compels the belief that the stream of phenom- 
ena, of which alone we are directly conscious, is 
not self-sufficient, but that it involves the existence 
of something not itself revealed to consciousness, 
by which these phenomena must be explained. In 
consciousness we have only the signs of external 
things. But when science goes beyond this limit, 
when she concedes, as she does, the real existence 
of an external world, when she reasons of force 
and matter as something more than conceptions 
which the mind has formed, then she recognizes 
the truth that the mind is compelled to make infer- 
ences respecting a sphere into which experience 
does not reach, and respecting which consciousness 
has no direct information. The great physical doc- 
trine of the persistence of energy all rests on this 
admission. 

" It is unquestionable, then," says Mr. Herbert, 
" that the testimony of consciousness to much that 
lies beyond the present phenomenon is accepted 
without hesitation, that human life would be at a 
standstill if credit was not continually given to in- 



314 THE THEISTTC ARGUMENT. 

ferences from the symbols which present themselves 
in consciousness. To read off the meaning of these 
symbols is the very function of our intelligence ; 
reason finds its occupation in the interpretation of 
signs ; and that is preeminently its office in the ar- 
duous and elaborate investigations of science. To 
recognize the world as external is to assume a 
power outside me working effects on me ; to affirm 
that a phenomenon had an antecedent is to accept 
the testimony of memory to a fact which is incapa- 
ble of proof. Science, then, transcends phenomena 
at every step ; the whole fabric of human knowl- 
edge would collapse, unless the testimony of con- 
sciousness were accepted to facts not found among 
phenomena, but inferred from them. Yet those 
who are indebted, at every turn, to such inferences, 
boast of giving recognition to phenomena alone. 
Nor is it a mere practical, as distinguished from a 
philosophical recognition, that is given to such in- 
ferences, for the entire edifice of their science re- 
poses on them." ^ 

Let us now proceed to connect this reasoning 
with the results of our previous discussion. I have 
wandered somewhat away from the direct line of my 
argument for the purpose of making perfectly plain 
an important principle. The proof that the first 
cause is the infinite, eternal, and perfect being, has, 
for the most part, been derived directly from princi- 
ples and ideas held to be innate. Various methods 
have been adopted for showing this, but they all 
agree in attempting to demonstrate the divine exist- 
ence and attributes by a process of purely deductive 
reasoning. Thus arguments for the divine exist- 

^ The Realistic Assumptions of Modern Science Examined^ p. 344. 



PERSONALITY AND THE INFINITE. 315 

ence have been deduced from the nature of truth, 
which implies a being as absolutely true, or from 
the nature of the human mind, as united, through 
its universal notions, with the divine mind, or from 
the nature of knowledge, which is held to be possible 
only through ideas which have their source in an 
eternal reason, not derived from the senses but in- 
herent in the divine nature. Anselm held that, from 
the very idea of God, as the highest being, his neces- 
sary existence might be strictly deduced, while Des- 
cartes maintained that, in the very consciousness of 
imperfection and limitation, was involved the idea 
of an all-perfect and unlimited being. Others have 
derived so-called demonstrations of the divine exist- 
ence from the notions of existence and causality. 
My present argument must not be confounded with 
any of these. As I do not adopt them, I do not 
need to explain or defend them. They are all at- 
tempts to evolve, by a purely logical process, what 
is involved in certain primary intuitions, or funda- 
mental conditions of the mind, and it is claimed for 
them that, unless we fall back upon the skeptical 
alternative that the consciousness and reason of man 
cannot be trusted, we must believe in the existence 
of an eternal, infinite, and unconditional being. But 
the fatal defect seems to me to lurk in all this rea- 
soning that it proceeds, throughout, on a purely 
ideal basis ; it is reasoning, not respecting the facts 
of nature, but respecting the conceptions of the hu- 
man mind. A purely subjective necessity of rea- 
soning is projected outwards, and because logically 
conclusive, is held to be conclusive in the realm of 
objective reality. Under every one of its modifica- 
tions this argument proceeds from the necessary 



3l6 THE THE IS TIC ARGUMENT. 

idea of God to his necessary being ; it passes from 
thought to reality precisely as we pass from prem- 
ise to conclusion. 

But I propose to make no such application of our 
intuitive beliefs. I am not arguing from our intu- 
ition of the infinite to the existence of an infinite 
being, but having found the existence and attributes 
of some being by a wholly different method, am now 
asking whether we are not compelled to connect our 
intuitions of the infinite with this existing being. 
It may be thought, by some, that as soon as the idea 
of the infinite is thus apprehended, the full theistic 
inference goes with it, and that the inference of the 
mind to the existence of the Deity is self-evident. 
But an atheist does not deny infinity as an abstract 
conception, and few will refuse to recognize the fact 
that they apprehend immediately certain aspects of 
infinity. What they refuse to acknowledge is that 
the apprehension of the infinite implies anything 
more than the boundlessness of space, the eternity 
of time, or the self-existence of matter. Something, 
then, is needed to complete the argument, and to 
show that there is some being of whom such infinite 
attributes are predicable. The proof that God is 
infinite and absolute should, therefore, not precede, 
but should follow, the proof of the existence of an 
intelligent and righteous cause. We do not pass by 
any illicit process from the ideal to the actual, but 
have reasoned from facts to the existence and attri- 
butes of a first cause, before we have undertaken to 
apply to him our intuitive conceptions. We have 
shown that the universe must have had an incon- 
ceivably powerful and intelligent author, a supreme 
framer and governor who has adjusted, throughout 



PERSONALITY AND THE INFINITE. 317 

its wondrous frame, means to ends with marvelous 
exactness ; who has formed his creatures to recognize 
a moral law, who has made the course of their his- 
tory, through the ages, an increasing expression and 
illustration and demonstration of a moral purpose. 
We have, further, shown that we are so made, or 
if another statement of the fact be preferred, have 
grown so to be, that we have intuitions, which are 
the very framework of all our thought, of infinity 
and eternity. When we have reached this point the 
idea of God spontaneously completes itself. We 
irresistibly connect these intuitions with the first 
cause. The author of the universe must be the be- 
ing of whom these are predicable. When the mind 
has been brought to admit the existence of a su- 
preme intelligence and will it will not hesitate to 
believe that this intelligence and will are also infinite 
and eternal. 

From what has been said the part which intuition 
holds, in our present argument, has been made suffi- 
ciently plain. While we had no hesitation in reject- 
ing intuition as an exclusive and immediate source 
of our belief in the divine existence, we recognize 
intuition as essential to the completeness of the the- 
istic argument. We recognize it, not as doing away 
with the various inductive arguments, based on the 
constitution of the universe and the nature of man, 
but as completing those arguments, and carrying 
them to the final stage, short of which they fail to 
satisfy the mind. In other words, we regard intu- 
ition, not as a distinct and independent faculty of 
the mind, a faculty transcending all the ordinary and 
recognized processes of intelligence, but as a part of 
cognition, as the final and legitimate step to which 



3l8 THE THEISTIC ARGUMENT. 

the intellectual process leads. And not the comple- 
tion of one process, but the completion of all, so that 
the final conviction to which the reason is brought 
is the central truth towards which all the converg- 
ing lines of inquiry lead. Hence, by whatever avenue 
we approach the Deity, whether we view him as first 
cause or as moral governor,* we are brought at last 
to this conclusion. 

The theistic argument is completed at this point. 
All its threads are gathered up and woven together 
by this supreme act of the mind. At the outset, we 
saw that the argument was complex. The proof of 
the divine existence was drawn from many sources. 
It was not claimed that any one, taken by itself, 
yielded a perfectly satisfactory result. The neces- 
sity of supposing a first cause was not itself a proof 
of the divine existence. The evidence of intelli- 
gence in nature was not a proof of the divine exist- 
ence ; the traces in history of a moral governor were 
not proofs of the divine existence. But all these 
were undeniable facts ; they all pointed in the same 
direction, they all converged to a common centre, 
they all brought us, at last, face to face with the 
conviction of a being behind phenomena, transcend- 
ing existence, endowed with wisdom and goodness 
beyond anything that the imagination of man could 
conceive. At this point, and by a strictly legitimate 
process of intellection, a process implied in all knowl- 
edge, and lying at the basis of every science, we 
clothed this conception with the attributes of infin- 
ity, and when this was done, the idea of God was 
completed. 

But at this stage in our argument we encounter a 
new objection. Granting all that has been claimed, 



PERSONALITY AND THE INFINITE. 319 

it may now be urged that it proves too much ; that 
when, by this appeal to intuition, we have succeeded 
in estabhshing the existence of an infinite and abso- 
lute being, we have at the same time destroyed all 
the distinctive grounds of religious belief ; for this 
infinite and absolute being must, in the nature of 
the case, be incomprehensible, and we are only in- 
volved in endless and inextricable contradictions if 
we attribute to it any definite qualities. Above all, 
it is said, are we debarred by this conclusion from 
connecting with the infinite and absolute being the 
idea of personality ; for we cannot at the same time 
think of the Supreme Being as infinite and think of 
him as personal. The two representations cannot 
be reconciled, for personality, in its nature, is limit- 
ation, and we cannot conceive of personality into 
which some form of limitation does not enter. We 
cannot transcend in thought our own personality, 
and hence to speak of an infinite and absolute per- 
son is simply to play with phrases that have no in- 
telligible meaning. 

This objection is a metaphysical one, and has been 
made sufificiently familiar in the writings of Mr. 
Mansel. It is a repetition of Spinoza's famous 
maxim, — " Determinatio est negatio," — to define 
God is to deny him. But it is also the view of Mr. 
Spencer, in whose system science and metaphysics 
are continually confounded. While Mr. Spencer as- 
serts the existence of an all-pervading and all-sus- 
taining power, eternally and everywhere manifested 
in the phenomenal activity of the universe, alike the 
cause of all and the essence of all, he holds, not less 
strongly, that this cause and essence are, to us, in- 
scrutable, and that the terms personality and infinity, 



320 rilE THEISTIC ARGUMENT. 

especially, express ideas which are mutually incom- 
patible. The most that we can do is to assert the 
persistence of an unconditioned reality, transcending 
our knowledge or conception, without beginning or 
end. The axiomatic truths of physical science una- 
voidably postulate this absolute Being as their ba- 
sis ; but beyond this we cannot go. As soon as we 
reason about it we are involved in contradictions. 
So that the highest attainment of the human mind 
is to ascertain the laws of phenomena, and then 
bow down in humble recognition of the infinite un- 
known. 

Mr. Matthew Arnold, with more grace of style if 
less scientific vigor, has unfolded the same doctrine. 
Mr. Arnold tells us, with almost wearisome iteration, 
that we must renounce forever the delusion " that God 
is a person who thinks and loves." For this convic- 
tion, endeared to so many generations of believing 
souls, we are to substitute the idea of a '^ stream of 
tendency by which all things fulfill the law of their 
being ; " not a person who thinks and loves, but a 
"power that lives and breathes and feels." We are 
bidden to lift our eyes, not to a righteous ruler of 
the world, but to "the eternal not-ourselves that 
makes for righteousness ; " or, in other words, to sub- 
stitute for a personal God a negative entity, of which 
all that can be with certainty affirmed is, that it is 
"not we-ourselves," and that it is beyond us and 
eternal. By what precise process we reach this con- 
clusion is not clearly pointed out. No one, we are 
told, " has discovered the nature of God to be per- 
sonal, or is entitled to assert that he has conscious 
intelligence ;" but we are told to look to the " consti- 
tution and history of things," where we shall find an 



PERSONALITY AND THE INFINITE. 32 1 

eternal tendency at work, and that this eternal ten- 
dency "makes for righteousness." ^ 

So far as this definition of Matthew Arnold is 
an attempt to bring the conclusive evidence of the 
divine existence within the range of human experi- 
ence, so that it can be tested and verified, I cordially 
accept it. It is wholly in the spirit of this discus- 
sion, and is an affirmation of one essential part of 
my argument, — the argument from history. I en- 
deavored to show that the course of history, with 
whatever exceptions, yet on the whole, undeniably 
''makes for righteousness." So far, too, as this view- 
is a protest against the common tendency to identify 
personality in God with personality in man, thus 
assuming that human nature is an adequate measure 
or representative of the divine, it may be accepted 
as working a wholesome reaction. The old Hebrew 
prophets said as much. But Mr. Arnold evidently 
means more. His language, though not always 
clear, must still be taken to imply that human per- 
sonality not only inadequately represents the divine, 
but that there is a radical inconsistency, or contra- 
diction, between the two ideas ; so that if God be 
infinite he cannot be a person, and if personal he 
cannot be infinite. An infinite being must exclude 
limitation and relation. 

The question whether the Supreme Being is per- 
sonal, or can be interpreted by us in terms in which 
we interpret our own personality, is a very old one, 
and it would be idle to disguise the difficulties which 
surround it. From the universal instinct of the hu- 
man race to recognize the Supreme Being as per- 
sonal, the great majority of all forms of false religion 

1 [See Arnold, Literature and Dogma\ 
21 



322 THE THE IS TIC ARGUMENT. 

have arisen. For the moment the mind proceeds 
to clothe the Supreme Being with the attribute of 
personaUty, the subtle process of anthropomorphiz- 
ing begins, and, as experience shows, this process 
carries in its train every form of idol worship, from 
the loftiest to the most degraded. "The fair hu- 
manities of old religion," whose passing away from 
earth a great modern poet has deplored, and the low- 
est fetish worship of an African savage, all had their 
beginning here. It is not surprising that this result 
should produce with some a deep revulsion of feel- 
ing, and that, not in the name of science only, but 
even in the name of religion, they should feel called 
upon to utter a protest against what they stigmatize 
as " anthropomorphic theism," as a mere survival of 
the primitive fetishistic habit of thought. 

Yet anthropomorphism, though evidently capable 
of being carried to a ruinous extreme, represents a 
universal tendency, and so> according to the maxim 
of the evolution school, would seem to have its roots 
in some great truth. That the human mind has 
shown this instinctive tendency would seem a fact, 
of itself, sufficient to suggest the question whether 
there were not some reality corresponding to this 
irrepressible instinct. "We must not fall down 
and worship," we are told, " as the source of our life 
and virtue, the image which our own minds have 
set up. Why is such idolatry any better than that 
of the old wood and stone } If we worship the 
creations of our minds, why not also those of our 
hands .-* The one is, indeed, a more refined self-ado- 
ration than the other ; but the radical error remains 
the same in both." Yet, clearly, because we can 
recognize the Supreme Being as good and wise, it 



PERSONALITY AND THE INFINITE. 323 

does not follow that his goodness and his wisdom 
are simply the creations of our thought ; and if we 
can recognize him as personal, and if we instinct- 
ively tend so to do, this of itself would furnish no 
ground whatever for discrediting the reality of his 
personality as distinct from our conceptions. 

Mr. Spencer concedes, not only that we are com- 
pelled to recognize the existence of something be- 
hind phenomena, but we are compelled to recognize 
that something as efficient cause. It is only when 
we attempt to reason about it that we are involved 
in contradictions. But, similar contradictions beset 
us just as much when we attempt to reason about 
other things. When we analyze the grounds for 
believing in our own continuous existence, our own 
personality or freedom, or when we attempt to frame 
definite conceptions of notions so fundamental as 
space, time, or motion, we are encompassed with 
contradictions. There is nothing, whatever, excep- 
tional in our experience when we lift our thoughts 
to the Supreme Being. And the natural inference 
is that our conceptions, derived directly or indirectly 
from phenomena, are not inadequate to represent 
realities transcending phenomena, which however 
dimly shadowed forth are yet irresistibly suggested. 
Absolute knowledge of these realities is confessedly 
unattainable, yet the conviction of their existence is 
irresistible ; and shall we rest with the blank admis- 
sion of their existence, or may we proceed to explore, 
even though imperfectly, their nature } 

Surely, if our ignorance of the Supreme Being 
disqualifies us from affirming or denying anything 
about him, it disqualifies us from ascribing to him 
power. How, according to Mr. Spencer's view, we 



324 THE THEISTIC ARGUMENT. 

are "obliged to regard every phenomenon as a mani- 
festation of some power," and yet are debarred from 
regarding phenomena as manifestations of intelli- 
gence, it is not easy to see. Are not power and 
mtelligence equally attributes ? Are we not forced 
to the conviction of the reality of a power by the 
existence of the universe, and are not the character- 
istics of the universe as much phenomena demand- 
ing explanation as its bare existence ? Clearly, to 
be consistent with himself, Mr. Spencer should dis- 
miss from his system, not only the idea of intelli- 
gence, but the idea of power, and even of any reality 
in the external universe. These attributes are as 
perplexing and inscrutable as any that the mind can 
connect with the Supreme Being. Thus, according 
to this view, the only consistent and logical result 
that can be reached with regard to this whole sub- 
ject is, an utter paralysis of thought. We virtually 
fall back upon the Hegelian conclusion, where pure 
existence is identified with pure nothing. 

All that I claim is that there are many concep- 
tions which the mind is irresistibly prompted to 
form, which, when logically followed out, are found 
to involve contradictions. Such are our conceptions 
of mind and thought, of matter and motion, of time 
and space. In whatever direction our inquiries 
move these conceptions quickly land us in contra- 
dictions. All these conceptions involve inferences 
that transcend phenomena, yet they are inferences 
to which reason, when it investigates phenomena, is 
inevitably led. What course, now, do we pursue } 
Do we, on account of these recognized and acknowl- 
edged difficulties, dismiss such conceptions from our 
minds, or doubt their reality } Do we question the 



PERSONALITY AND THE INFINITE. 325 

existence of mind or matter, because an ideal or a 
material conception of the universe cannot be recon- 
ciled ; do we doubt the reality of time and of space, 
because the attempt to conceive either involves us 
in contradiction ? Do we not accept these concep- 
tions as necessary, while we recognize them as im- 
perfect ? And while we cannot attain absolute knowl- 
edge respecting these inferences, do we not yet rest 
in the firm conviction that, however imperfect, they 
represent realities ? 

To describe his distinctive position, Mr. Spencer 
applies to his system the epithet ''Transfigured Real- 
ism." By this he affirms the reality of some objec- 
tive existence, as a necessity of thought, but denies 
that it is more than an unknown correlative of con- 
sciousness. We can say that it is, but cannot say 
what it is. But either this high-sounding phrase 
means nothing, or it means much more than Mr. 
Spencer is willing to admit. If he admits that the 
mind is competent to recognize anything but mere 
phenomena, he opens a door which he has no right 
to close. The question is not, whether we can reason 
back to the essence of the Supreme Being, — no one 
claims that ; the question is not whether we can fully 
search out the attributes of the Supreme Being, — no 
one claims that we have more than a partial knowl- 
edge even of the attributes which are revealed ; the 
simple question is, whether, if we are competent to 
recognize power, which Mr. Spencer admits, we are 
not competent to recognize other attributes. By 
Mr. Spencer's own admission, the middle wall of 
partition between the seen and the unseen is broken 
down, and the question what we know of the su- 
preme cause becomes a question of degree. 



326 THE THE IS TIC ARGUMENT. 

To ascribe personality to the Supreme Being is 
often spoken of, as it were, in a peculiar way to 
ascertain his essence, as though, in thus represent- 
ing him, we claimed, more than in any other way, to 
know him as he is. But has the attribute of personal- 
ity any such precedence over other attributes ? When 
we ascribe conscious life to our fellow-men, we do it 
wholly on the ground that their bodies exhibit cer- 
tain movements resembling the movements of our 
own bodies when actuated by conscious impulses. 
We know nothing whatever of the real nature, or 
essence, of the power that produces these results 
either in ourselves, or in them. In their case, we 
have nothing but physical appearances, yet we do 
not for a moment doubt that these movements are 
guided by intelligence to a designed result. We are 
justified in drawing the same inference respecting 
nature distinct from human bodies, when we observe 
certain phenomena. We do not hesitate to ascribe 
these changing phenomena to some reality behind 
them. We go even further. We find, in ourselves, 
conscious intelligence ; we form plans and we have 
power to realize them, and we ascribe the same char- 
acteristics to other beings like ourselves. 

We are following strictly the same process of rea- 
soning when turning our gaze to external nature 
and finding there far more elaborate and skillfully 
contrived plans than we have ever been able to exe- 
cute ; and remembering that man himself is but a 
part of nature, and is included, as a conscious, ra- 
tional, and voluntary being in the same great scheme, 
we feel compelled to recognize the attributes of per- 
sonal intelligence. In doing this, we no more pre- 
tend to fathom the nature of the inscrutable reality 



PERSONALITY AND THE INFINITE. 327 

thus revealed to us, than we pretend to understand 
the personality revealed to us in our fellow-men. In 
either case, we are directly dealing with mere phe- 
nomena, but as we cannot refuse to recognize per- 
sonal intelligence in the minor facts which we term 
human beings, we cannot consistently refuse to 
recognize it in the stupendous phenomena of the 
external world. We go no further in the one case 
than in the other, and as we claim only to know 
very imperfectly our fellow-beings, when we ascribe 
to them the attributes of persons, so no more can it 
be said, when we ascribe the same attribute to the 
supreme cause, that we have found out the Almighty 
to perfection. 

It may still be urged that, even granting that this 
process is legitimate, and that in reaching this con- 
clusion we do no more than when we reason respect- 
ing any phenomena, yet a reverent mind shrinks 
back from it, since in thus ascribing personality to 
the unsearchable power revealed in phenomena, we 
only invest him with attributes which are but exag- 
gerations of our own qualities, and thus degrade him 
to our own level. This objection is urged as con- 
clusive by those who love to express contempt for 
what they are pleased to term "Anthropomorphic 
Theism," yet, on examination, it will be found desti- 
tute of real weight. For what are the alternatives 
which are open to us } Do we get a more adequate 
and more exalted conception of the Supreme Being 
by refusing to invest him with personality. There 
may be, Mr. Spencer suggests, " a mode of being as 
much transcending intelligence and will as these 
transcend mechanical motion." This no one will 
deny, for no one claims that the designation of the 



328 THE THE IS TIC ARGUMENT. 

Supreme Being, as personal, is anything more than 
a partial and inadequate description. But how shall 
we make the nearest approach to a conception of 
this transcendent being ? Is it by appealing to the 
lowest conceptions that nature supplies us, or is it 
by appealing to the highest ? Is it by expressing the 
Supreme Being in terms of physical force, of matter 
and motion, or is it by expressing him in terms of 
spiritual action, of will, intelligence, and personal- 
ity ? Granted that both are imperfect, which is 
likely to be more adequate. Is it not obvious that 
the former way of conceiving, or of describing, the 
Supreme Being, instead of giving us a more ele- 
vated, is to give us a more degrading conception } 
Our highest conception of existence is bound up 
with personality. From this highest level of expe- 
rience we must start to reach the most adequate 
conception of the Supreme Being. Our argument, 
in short, amounts to this ; that to refuse to form 
any conception of Deity is to rest in utter vacancy, 
and is the least satisfactory and least rational result 
of all ; that to accept the existence of a reality be- 
hind phenomena, and describe it under phrases de- 
rived from physical causation, is to represent the 
supreme cause as in reality inferior to ourselves ; 
and that hence the only rational course, always bear- 
ing in mind the inadequacy of our conclusions, is to 
invest him with the highest attributes of which we 
have any knowledge, — the attributes of a personal 
being. 



LECTURE XL 

THE ALTERNATIVE THEORIES. 

I HAVE thus far aimed simply to present the posi- 
tive grounds on which the theistic argument rests. 
I have confined myself throughout the entire discus- 
sion to rigid inductive reasoning. From the mani- 
fest and undisputed facts presented in the external 
world and in human consciousness, I have sought 
to establish certain conclusions respecting the exist- 
ence and attributes of a supreme cause. By a sim- 
ilar method I ascertained the existence of certain 
necessary intuitions of the mind, and proceeded to 
connect these intuitions with the conclusions already 
reached. At this point the argument was completed. 
Whatever validity it has a right to claim, and what- 
ever acceptance it ought to win, depend upon the 
force of what has been presented. My aim has been 
to set forth the rational grounds by which we are 
led to a belief in the divine existence, and the con- 
clusion to which the discussion has brought us is 
that no other intelligible explanation of the universe 
is possible, save that it owes its existence and its 
continuance in existence to a self-existent being who 
is infinitely powerful, wise, and good. 

A conclusion so solemn and momentous ought to 
make its appeal to positive grounds, and on no other 
could its acceptance be for a moment urged. If 
these are not sufficient, nothing is left but to aban- 



330 THE THEISTIC ARGUMENT. 

don the argument altogether. But the question may- 
be looked at in another light, and, before we leave 
it, it may be useful and instructive so to do. If I 
have not wholly failed in the task I have undertaken, 
I have shown that these positive grounds are suffi- 
cient, and that they have not been shaken by any of 
the recent objections brought against them. Still, 
without implying any doubt as to their sufficiency, 
we may ask, before closing our discussion, what is 
left us should the theistic conclusion be rejected. 
Even if our argument for the divine existence has 
not been carried to the point of absolute demonstra- 
tion, it will hardly be denied that it reaches a high 
degree of probability, and that it supplies a rational 
explanation of the phenomena of the physical uni- 
verse and of consciousness. The question which I 
now propose to ask is : in case this conclusion be 
rejected, what other explanation of the facts of na- 
ture or of life shall be substituted for it ? 

In presenting what seems to me the convincing 
and overwhelming proofs of theism, I have already 
been compelled to examine at considerable length 
the leading antagonistic theories. For much of the 
argument could not be fairly unfolded without keep- 
ing constantly in view the objections that had been 
brought against it. But this was mainly for the pur- 
pose of warding off the attacks of those who deny 
that theism rests on any sufficient foundation. The 
treatment of these objections was defensive. So far 
as the argument was concerned this would have been 
sufficient, and the objections brought against theism 
might well have been left alone after their inade- 
quacy or irrelevancy had been made apparent. Our 
discussion of the subject will, however, be more 



THE ALTERNATIVE THEORIES. 33 1 

complete and more satisfactory, if we go beyond 
this, and inquire whether those who reject theism 
have, themselves, any sufficient ground to stand 
upon, and whether the various substitutes which 
they offer meet those wants which have led the 
great majority of mankind to crave with so much 
earnestness some proof of the existence of a being 
superior to themselves. 

The time remaining at my disposal would not 
allow anything like a complete review of anti-the- 
istic theories, even were such a review in itself de- 
sirable. For my present purpose it will be enough 
to confine myself to the more prominent hypotheses 
which are just now awakening discussion. The de- 
nial of the divine existence has assumed a. great 
variety of forms, and has appealed, at different 
times, to a great variety of arguments. Still each 
successive age has had its distinctive type of unbe- 
lief, and the phases of anti-theistic speculation may 
be very readily discriminated. While these are often 
closely connected, and pass one to the other by a 
very gradual process of development, they may yet 
be regarded as distinct, and as having a real relation 
to the currents of contemporary thought. I propose 
to pass in review, at present, only those aspects of 
anti-theistic speculation which reflect our present 
ways of looking at nature or at man, and which have 
sprung directly from the intellectual conditions of 
our own time. This will furnish us with more than 
enough for satisfactory examination during the hour 
before us. 

The negative of theism is atheism, but with athe- 
ism, in the strict meaning of the term, we do not 
need to concern ourselves. For if by atheism we 



332 THE THE IS TIC ARGUMENT. 

mean the absolute denial of the divine existence, 
the theory is one that hardly calls for serious refu- 
tation. It is true that some are found, even in our 
own day, who make a bold profession of this dog- 
matic atheism, who, if we may accept their own 
statements, have reasoned themselves into the con- 
viction that there is nothing in the universe higher 
than man ; that there is no good which is not ma- 
terial and perishable ; that there is nothing infinite 
and nothing eternal in whom the soul may confide. 
Thus Feuerbach says, " It is clear as the sun and 
evident as the day that there is no God, and still 
more' that there can be none;" and Flourens, in 
language more offensive, asserts, " Hatred of God is 
the beginning of wisdom. If mankind would make 
true progress it must be on the basis of atheism." 
When men meet us with declarations like these we 
are bound to take them at their word, however in- 
conceivable it may seem to us that a rational being 
could be brought to utter such absurdity. 

For the naked assertion that God does not exist 
is evidently one that no finite being is capable of 
making. Whatever may be the difficulty of proving 
that there is a God, to prove that there is not a 
God is manifestly beyond the power of human in- 
tellect. That God exists is a proposition, the truth 
of which may be deduced from a circle of facts 
lying within our immediate range ; but to prove that 
God does 7iot exist we must have sounded the uni- 
verse in all its length and breadth. If he has left 
no traces of his existence in the narrow field open to 
our inspection, we yet cannot affirm that no such 
trace exists in the measureless spaces which we 
have never explored ; if he has never uttered a 



THE ALTERNATIVE THEORIES. 333 

voice during the brief space that we have existed, 
we still cannot declare with certainty that he has 
never revealed himself to other beings during the 
eternal round of time. When, therefore, Von Hol- 
bach declares that the existence of God " is not a 
problem, but simply an impossibility," the statement 
may be dismissed as destitute of meaning. It is a 
waste of time to refute a proposition which the hu- 
man mind, in the nature of things, has no capacity 
for asserting. 

Few allow themselves to be hurried, either by 
passion or prejudice, to this irrational extreme. 
Without going to the extent of denying absolutely 
the divine existence, most of those who decline to 
accept theism content themselves with denying that 
there is any sufficient proof of the existence of a 
supreme being, or that if he exists we are capable 
of knowing it. To such as content themselves with 
this more moderate conclusion the term atheist is 
not commonly applied, and in some cases they have 
taken express pains to disavow it. This is the form 
of unbelief in the divine existence which prevails 
most widely at the present day. Unlike the ex- 
treme form of atheism, it cannot be dismissed as 
perfectly irrational, but claims to ally itself with the 
most certain conclusions of science. In distinction 
from the dogmatic atheism, which absolutely denies 
the divine existence, this is skeptical or critical. It 
does not declare that there is no God, but contents 
itself with affirming that the human mind can never 
know whether there is a God or not. The question 
of the divine existence it regards as an insoluble 
problem which the wise man will leave alone. For 
a human mind it has no meaning. 



334 ^^^ THE IS TIC ARGUMENT. 

So far as the practical conclusion is concerned, 
the difference between den3dng that there is a God 
and denying that we can ever know whether there is 
a God or not is so very slight that the two theories 
might well be classed together. There is, however, 
between them a broad distinction, and those who 
hold to the latter are not bound, by any means, to 
accept the former. One is atheism, the other is 
agnosticism ; one denies, the other simply holds it- 
self in suspense. While the former has never 
gained any wide acceptance, and when averred 
seems the hasty utterance of passionate enthusi- 
asts, the latter has much in common with the calm, 
even, cautious temper of modern times. It has, on 
its face, the recommendation of a modest theory ; 
it harmonizes with the temper which science en- 
joins. Nor has it always been found associated 
with unbelief. Some have supposed that the claims 
of revealed religion could be more powerfully vindi- 
cated, that the authority of divine truth could be 
set in a clearer light, by first demonstrating the 
utter incapacity of the finite intellect to deal with 
any problems relating to the infinite and supersen- 
suous sphere. 

And here we are brought in contact with the 
first of the alternative hypotheses which I propose 
to consider, the system of thought which goes 
under the general designation of positivism. In 
using this phrase, let me premise that I do not use 
it in its strict sense as designating a single school, 
but rather as indicating a much more wide-spread 
habit of mind. Nor do I propose to discuss the 
question, how far this mental habit represents any- 
thing original in the history of speculation. I shall 



THE ALTERNATIVE THEORIES. 335 

simply exhibit its recognized and acknowledged at- 
titude towards religion. Respecting this there is 
no room for dispute. According to the fundamen- 
tal maxims of positivism, we know, and can know, 
nothing except physical phenomena and their laws. 
The senses are the sole sources of thought, and be- 
yond the facts which they report, and the evident 
relations of sequence and resemblance in which 
these facts stand to each other, our intellectual 
vision cannot extend. Only the laws under which 
physical phenomena may be grouped present any 
legitimate subject of inquiry. Any attempt to go 
beyond this clearly defined line, any searching into 
the causes of phenomena, whether final or efficient, 
must be scouted as sheer folly. 

Hence positivism lays of necessity an absolute 
interdict on all religious speculation. It equally re- 
jects theism and atheism, and denies the capacity of* 
human reason either to affirm or to deny the divine 
existence. Belief or unbelief, with regard to a prob- 
lem so far transcending the legitimate range of hu- 
man faculties is denounced as equally absurd, and 
a sane mind will hold itself jealously aloof from 
an inclination either to the one or to the other di- 
rection. The question of the existence of a su- 
preme being, a being in whom we may trust, to 
whom we may look for guidance, whom we may 
love and reverence and adore, is a question that has 
for us no more significance than the question what 
language is spoken in the stars. It is a waste of 
time, a misuse of faculties, to busy ourselves with 
such inquiries. The fact that we are interested in 
such a question is simply proof that our intellects 
are immature. Wherever such speculations are 



336 THE THE IS TIC ARGUMENT. 

found thought is still in its infancy. We think as 
children, and we talk as children, when we prattle 
about a first cause or a Supreme Being. The best 
proof that we have become men is forever putting 
aside these childish things. 

So far as the positive philosophy involved any- 
thing distinctive or original, it has had its day, and 
is now seldom mentioned but with contempt. It is 
needless to dwell upon its misconceptions and incon- 
sistencies, and show how, in professing to rest itself 
upon an impregnable basis of fact, it either ignored 
or denied the most universal and best attested facts 
of human experience. As a mere theory, it is not 
in harmony with itself. It is, to a considerable ex- 
tent, a materialistic theory ; but so far as it involves 
materialism it denies positivism. For positivism 
asserts that we can know only phenomena ; but ma- 
terialism implies that matter is more than a phenom- 
enon. Again, if, as Comte asserted, we know merely 
phenomena, we can have no warrant for saying that 
phenomena which we call mental can be resolved 
into phenomena which we call physical. We can 
only say that they are coexistent or successive. We 
have a direct and immediate knowledge of mental 
phenomena. We are as sure of their existence as 
we can be of any material phenomenon. A system 
which asserts that objects of sense are the only phe- 
nomena known contradicts the positive testimony 
of human consciousness. 

Not only is the positive philosophy inconsistent, 
it is incomplete ; it does not follow into the logical 
conclusions from its own premises. For if the 
senses are our sole means of knowing, then our only 
real knowledge must be sensations ; but sensations 



THE ALTERNATIVE THEORIES. 337 

are simply states of consciousness ; that is, they are 
phenomena, not of matter, but of mind. Therefore, 
if we know only phenomena, it is not material but 
mental phenomena that we know; and hence if we 
accept this system we are logically bound, to dis- 
card not only belief in God, but belief in the reality 
of any external world. A permanent possibility of 
sensations is, in fact, all that we have left. Nor can 
we stop even here ; for mind cannot be identified 
with its phenomena. If we know only phenomena 
we know only a series of states of consciousness. 
We have no right to go beyond these. We have no 
right to reason respecting the mysterious thread 
which holds these states of consciousness together. 
Hence positivism must give up both matter and 
mind. So that the reasoning which undertakes to 
prove that we can know nothing about God, if 
pushed to its logical consequences, proves that we 
cannot know anything at all. 

The assertion of the positive philosophy, that be- 
lief or disbelief in the divine existence is equally 
absurd, can only be maintained upon one of two 
grounds : either that there is no reason whatever in 
favor of either, or that the arguments which can be 
adduced for one are exactly counterbalanced by the 
arguments which can be adduced for the other. But 
to assert that there are absolutely no reasons which 
can be adduced for belief in the divine existence, as 
we have already seen, is to do what no finite mind 
has a right to do. To prove that God cannot be 
known, we must prove that there is something con- 
tradictory in the very notion of the divine existence ; 
but a system which rests rigidly upon the facts of 

experience manifestly cannot do this. This can only 
22 



338 THE THEISTIC ARGUMENT. 

be done by an appeal to those very metaphysical 
ideas which the positive philosophy denounces as 
worthless. It only remains, then, to show that the 
arguments adduced in favor of the divine existence 
are exactly counterbalanced by the arguments ad- 
duced against it. But this can only be done by com- 
parison and examination. And this examination 
evidently ought to be most comprehensive and thor- 
ough. 

The only thing approaching such an examination 
which the positive philosophy gives us is in the so- 
called law of the three states. According to this, 
human speculation has passed through three stages. 
It was first theological, then metaphysical, and lastly, 
in the ripened manhood of human intelligence, it has 
become positive. Respecting this assumed law of 
human progress, it is enough to say, not only that no 
solid historical evidence was produced in its favor, 
but the known facts of history all disprove it. These 
coexistent states are here confounded with three suc- 
cessive stages of thought, — three aspects of things 
with three epochs of time. Theology, metaphysics, 
and science, instead of thus following one another 
in successive epochs, have always existed side by 
side, and exist side by side to-day. Neither one of 
them has passed, or can pass, away. All positive 
science rests on the recognition of metaphysical prin- 
ciples, and theology lies behind both. History, in- 
stead of showing that theology and metaphysics are 
mere passing phases of thought, makes clearly evi- 
dent that they are modes of conceiving truth which 
are as permanent as human reason itself. 

The fundamental objection of the positivist to 
theism is, that it is based on the assumption that 



THE ALTERNATIVE THEORIES. 339 

man can attain to a knowledge of causes, while, ac- 
cording to the positivist theory, causes are wholly 
inaccessible to human intellect. They lie in a region 
beyond that which his limited faculties can reach. 
It deserves to be noted that Comte admits that if 
reason can rise to the recognition of causes, belief in 
a divine author of the world becomes inevitable. All 
arguments of positivists against causes resolve them- 
selves, at last, into this single one, that they cannot 
be recognized by the senses. Our senses show us 
simply succession, not causation, antecedents and 
consequents, but not causes and effects ; and that 
we know nothing, and have a right to believe noth- 
ing, beyond what the senses teach. These arguments 
ignore the fact that the mind itself is a factor in 
knowledge, and that there are laws of thought as 
well as a constitution of things. Could their doc- 
trine be established there would evidently be no room 
for religion. But the grounds on which Comte 
sought to establish it would have given him equally 
good reason for denying his own existence as for de- 
nying the existence of God. The mind cannot know 
itself as a cause if it cannot recognize cause in nature. 
A most striking proof of the insufficiency of this 
theory was furnished in the fact that the founder of 
the positive philosophy, after proving that no relig- 
ion was possible, became so conscious of his own 
religious needs that he proceeded to invent one. 
Having denounced " religiosity " as a mere weakness 
and avowal of want of power, he afterwards devised 
a creed presenting such a grotesque mixture of athe- 
ism, fetishism, and ritualism, that it has done more 
than all the arguments of his opponents to bring 
him and his doctrines into contempt. The essence 



340 THE THEISTIC ARGUMENT. 

of this new gospel lay in a radical transformation of 
the meaning of the word religion. ^ With all man- 
kind, and from the first day when the word had been 
introduced into human language, religion had been 
used to imply some sense of the supernatural. Be- 
lief in God was the essence of all that men had been 
accustomed to call religion. But according to Comte, 
religion is ''the synthetic idealization of our exist- 
ence;" or, in other words, the worship, not of God, 
but of humanity. As expressed by Mill, it is " a be- 
lief, or a set of beliefs, deliberately adopted, respect- 
ing human destiny and duty, to which the believer 
acknowledges that all his actions ought to be subor- 
dinate." 

But while, as a reasoned system, positivism hardly 
calls for refutation at the present day, the mental 
attitude which it represents, and which is really very 
much older than any of the speculations of Comte, 
still asserts itself, and forms the real groundwork of 
much thinking which passes under another name. 
Some of those, in fact, who have been most ready 
to ridicule the French philosopher and his system 
virtually accept what was really essential in it. One 
of the most biting sarcasms uttered against positiv- 
ism, as a specific system, has been uttered by Mr. 
Huxley. Yet it would not be difficult to quote from 
Mr. Huxley's writings passages which prove beyond 
doubt that his general attitude of mind, with regard 
to all truth beyond that which the senses cognize, 
is identical with that of Comte. Though he may 
scorn the name of a disciple, he is treading the same 
path, and logically should arrive at the same goal. 
And when Tyndall declares of the power manifested 

1 [See Comte, Catechisme Positiviste (Paris, 1852).] 



THE ALTERNATIVE THEORIES. 34 1 

in the universe, "I dare not call it mind; I refuse 
even to call it cause," whatever name he may give to 
his speculations, he stands virtually upon the ground 
of Comte. He refuses to accept as truth what the 
senses do not certify. 

The ablest avowed duciple of this school was the 
late Professor Clifford. With him human society is 
the highest of all possible organisms. Sociology 
becomes, therefore, the only foundation of morality, 
and for the ethical basis of human action we do not 
need to look beyond the confines of the present life. 
In the same spirit Mr. Huxley tells us that " the true 
city of God is where each man's moral faculty shall 
be such as leads him to control all those desires which 
run counter to the good of mankind." In other 
words, man's moral nature can be completely devel* 
oped without any reference to an invisible world, or 
to an eternal destiny. Or, to quote Professor Hux- 
ley again : " The assertion that morality is in any 
way dependent on certain philosophical problems 
produces the same effect on my mind as if one should 
say that a man's vision depends on his theory of 
sight, or that he has no business to say that ginger 
is hot in his mouth unless he has formed definite 
views as to the nature of ginger." If this means 
anything, it means that the speculative opinions a 
man may cherish with regard to God and immortal- 
ity are of no account as influencing his conduct, and 
hence that they are better let alone. 

When positivism passes from the hands of men of 
science and letters, and assumes a coarser garb, it be- 
comes secularism. The two systems are so nearly 
allied that one may be regarded as the practical the- 
ory of life to which the other supplies the specula- 



342 THE THEISTIC ARGUMENT. 

tive basis. Like the positivists, the better class of 
secularists refuse to be called atheists. They even 
claim that literal theists, or literal believers in 
another life, may consistently force themselves, for 
practical ends, upon the secularist platform. As 
stated by their most intelligent representative, Mr. 
Holyoake, secularism starts with the study of nature, 
and simply ignores religion. It is a study of life 
and its duties, founded exclusively on a study of nat- 
ural laws. With regard to the origin of these laws, 
it commits itself to no hypothesis. They are ac- 
cepted simply as facts. The present life, with its 
duties, may be dealt with as a fact, without raising 
the question whether there is a future life. But to 
ignore is not to deny. As the chemist ignores archi- 
tecture, but does not deny it, so the secularist con- 
cerns himself simply with this world, without deny- 
ing or discussing any other. As a secularist he is 
not called upon to be either a theist or an atheist. 

This purely secular or non-religious system is as- 
serted as sufficient for all the practical and worthy 
ends of living. The man who guides himself by 
this rule has enough for all the duties that concern 
him as man. Secularism lays down as its leading 
principle, that precedence should be given to the 
duties of this life over those that pertain to another, 
on the simple ground that the duties which pertain 
to this life are known to us, while those which per- 
tain to another are, at best, only matter of conjec- 
ture. The gospel it preaches is summed up in the 
maxim, " Be worldly-minded ; think much of this 
life, and as little as possible of the next." Secular- 
ism scouts the idea that the future should influence 
the present. It recognizes no Providence but sci- 



THE ALTERNATIVE THEORIES. 343 

ence, and affirms that it will go well with us simply 
as we understand and learn to apply physical laws. 
Morality, and not religion, it maintains, is the proper 
business of life. In the general good we have a rule 
of action independent of God, of immortality, of 
revelation. In the practice of human duties, in the 
seeking of ends compressed within the scope of hu- 
man life, we have sufficient incitement and sufficient 
reward. The foundation, the sanction, the inspira- 
tion of conduct, are all centred here. 

I pass to consider the second of the alternative 
hypotheses which have been presented as substitutes 
for theism. Of all these substitutes it is the most 
wide-spread and most formidable, and must be re- 
garded at the present moment as forming, without 
doubt, the central point from which anti-theistic 
speculation springs. This is materialism. But it 
would be a grave mistake to suppose that by this 
designation is meant any single or definite theory. 
On the contrary, it covers a variety of hypotheses, 
by no means consistent with one another. Used in 
its strict and proper sense, the term should denote 
a theory that seeks to explain the universe by what 
is known as matter; but no system of materialism 
has ever undertaken to do this. And it is the dis- 
tinctive characteristic of modern materialism that it 
exalts matter far above anything that the senses can 
certify ; it does not hesitate to ascribe to matter the 
attribute of self-existence ; it endows it with a vague 
potency of life ; it even goes so far, at times, as to 
attribute to it sensation, volition, and intelligence. 
The matter with which modern science deals is 
something wholly different from the matter of the 
old materialists. 



344 ^^^^ THEISTIC ARGUMENT. 

We see from this how materialism passes beyond 
the Hne which positivism essays to draw. Positiv- 
ism asserts that we can go no further than to recog- 
nize those orderly sequences in nature to which we 
give the name of laws. It refuses to search for 
causes, and hence denies philosophy. But materi- 
alism is a boldly reasoned theory of the universe. 
It sets itself up as an ultimate and complete ex- 
planation of things. The claim for acceptance which 
it most strongly urges is, that it meets, better than 
any other system, the legitimate demand of the mind 
for unity. It explores the ground of things, and 
seeks to satisfy the intellectual need of a first cause. 
Assuming that there can be but one ultimate solu- 
tion of the problem of existence, rejecting every 
form of dualism, it looks beyond all secondary and 
coordinate causes for the supreme principle on 
which they are all dependent. It is really a philos- 
ophy of nature, of the boldest and most comprehen- 
sive kind ; and whatever judgment we may pass upon 
it and upon its claims, it is impossible not to recog- 
nize the fact that, as a logical method, it is far more 
adequate and satisfactory than positivism. 

And, considered as a method, it is not one that 
the human mind is likely very soon to outgrow. 
There is much in nature to make it attractive, and 
much in human life to lend it very strong apparent 
support. It seems to be peculiarly allied with cer- 
tain conditions of social life. It has special affin- 
ities with any corrupt and disorganized society. It 
found advocates in England in the reign of Charles 
II. It was wide-spread in France in the period 
preceding the Revolution. It is not less closely con- 
nected with certain intellectual tendencies. It 



THE ALTERNATIVE THEORIES. 345 

would be a gross injustice to attribute the refined 
materialism of the present day to any low standard 
of morals, or pursuit of selfish and personal aims. 
Modern materialism is partly a natural reaction 
from the excessive idealism to which the transcend- 
ental philosophy opened the door, but still more a 
concomitant of the rapid and brilliant progress of 
physical and especially of biological science. This 
enormous advance in our knowledge of the organic 
world has had a marked effect on the scientific 
spirit. It has transferred science from the realm of 
fact to the realm of speculation. 

There was a time when the methods of science 
were clearly defined, and when in practice they 
were rigidly adhered to. Science professed to reach 
her results by processes of induction or deduction, 
and the line between an ascertained law and an un- 
verified hypothesis was carefully observed. Noth- 
ing was more common than to hear from the physi- 
cist expressions of contempt for the metaphysician. 
But with the recent rapid advance of the physical 
sciences this has been very much changed. The 
confident assertions that come to us from so many 
quarters show conclusively that the notion of what 
constitutes a proof has become extremely confused. 
The Darwinian doctrine of natural selection, for ex- 
ample, is, at best, but an hypothesis. It was so set 
forth by the cautious student of nature from whom 
it borrows its name. Yet by some it is asserted 
as though established by evidence as conclusive 
as that on which we accept the law of gravitation. 
We have a school of metaphysical physics which 
carries its conclusions far beyond anything that 
a mere investigation of phenomena warrants. With 



34^ THE THEISTIC ARGUMENT. 

this school modern scientific materialism is most 
closely allied. 

If we ask for a definition of materialism, it may 
be stated as that system which essays to explain the 
universe in terms of matter. Bearing always in 
mind that it conceives of matter in that highly re- 
fined and etherealized sense in which it can hardly 
be distinguished from spirit, it resolves everything 
in nature, order, organization, sensation, thought, 
volition, into combinations and motions of matter. 
Thus the universe is exhibited as a homogeneous 
and coherent svstem. Without doubt this consti- 
tutes, for many minds, the strongest attraction of 
the system. It is a thorough system of monism, 
and conforms to that rational principle which com- 
pels us to admit as few causes as possible for a 
given phenomenon. If we claim for ideas an ex- 
istence distinct from matter, we are met with the re- 
ply that we know nothing of ideas or thoughts ex- 
cept as states of consciousness, that is, as special 
phenomena in the life of men, which are simply the 
last product of a long natural evolution. Man is 
part of nature, and thought is simply part of man. 
Hence we are compelled to seek the explanation 
of man in the common source of all natural phe- 
nomena, that is, in matter and motion. 

" I take it to be demonstrable," says Professor 
Huxley, who, if at times he is a positivist, at times 
is no less a materialist, " that it is utterly impossi- 
ble to prove that anything whatever may not be the 
effect of a material and necessary cause, and that 
human logic is equally incompetent to prove that 
any act is really spontaneous. A really spontaneous 
act is one which, by the assumption, has no cause ; 



THE ALTERNATIVE THEORIES. 347 

and the attempt to prove such a negation as this is, 
on the very face of the matter, absurd. And while 
it is thus a philosophical impossibility to demonstrate 
that any given phenomenon is not the effect of a ma- 
terial cause, any one who is acquainted with the his- 
tory of science will admit that its progress has, in all 
ages, meant, and now more than ever means, the ex- 
tension of the province of what we call matter and 
causation, and the concomitant gradual banishment 
from all regions of human thought of what we call 
spirit and spontaneity. And as surely as every future 
grows out of the past and present, so will the phys- 
iology of the future gradually extend the realm of 
matter and law until it is coextensive with knowl- 
edge, with feeling, and with action." ^ This lucid 
language can only mean that mind is but the high- 
est development of force ; that motion, heat, and 
light are but other names for sensation, emotion, 
and thoughts ! 

To this imposing hypothesis, however, an obvious 
objection at once presents itself. The strongest in- 
tellectual attraction of materialism consists in the 
fact that it is a system of monism ; it apparently sat- 
isfies the craving for unity which is so deeply planted 
in the human mind, and which receives new support 
with the progress of knowledge. We may assume, 
without hesitation, that a monistic theory is the ex- 
pression of rational thought. Human intelligence 
instinctively conceives of all coordinate causes as 
secondary. But the evident argument against ma- 
terialism is that it does not meet this very want. 
We need not discuss the question, how far we reach 
any real unity by analysis of matter. How far sci- 

1 Quoted by Prof. R. Flint, Anti-Theistic Theories, p. 131. 



348 THE THEISTIC ARGUMENT. 

ence may ultimately go in resolving the elements of 
matter into a single one, we need not undertake to 
decide. Certainly at present this goal is far enough 
from being reached. But, supposing matter to have 
been reduced to a single, pure, homogeneous phys- 
ical element, we have still to explain the fact that, in 
all the phenomena of the universe, matter is always 
combined with force. It is not dead matter with 
which we deal, but matter organized, and undergo- 
ing incessant and universal transmutations. 

The question at once arises, Is matter the cause 
of force, or is force the cause of matter } Unless 
one of these questions be answered in the affirma- 
tive, we have two original principles in the universe 
instead of one, and thus, at the first step, sacrifice 
that principle of unity on which scientific material- 
ism so much prides itself. For evidently if force 
and matter be conceived of as not related as cause 
and effect, but as inseparable and coordinate, we 
have two eternal principles instead of one, and 
the boasted monism of materialism is merged in 
dualism. The perplexity of the problem is not les- 
sened, but increased. If, on the other hand, force 
be conceived as the cause of matter, we preserve 
unity, but we destroy materialism. For we trace 
the existence of matter to an immaterial source ; 
it becomes at once secondary and dependent. If 
reason pursues its search for unity it cannot stop 
with physical force, for a universe of physical force 
would be simply an aggregate of forces. Behind 
the multiplicity of natural forces there must reside 
some single, original, and indivisible power. But 
when we have reached this conclusion, we are on 
the threshold of the great truth that the universe 
had its origin in mind. 



THE ALTERNATIVE THEORIES. 349 

Thus, in this whole discussion of matter and force, 
materialism is involved in fatal contradictions. As 
a reasoned system of the universe it goes beyond its 
own limits, and falsifies its own premises. For ma- 
terialism, so far as it claims any logical basis, rests 
on the postulate that all knowledge is attained 
through the organs of sense, and that beyond what 
the senses report, and the generalizations from this, 
we know and can know nothing. The properties of 
matter, it is claimed, are the sole, the direct, the im- 
mediate objects of the senses ; and the facts of nat- 
ure do not demand for their explanation anything 
distinct from matter. Materialism, of necessity, in- 
volves sensationalism, and sensationalism necessarily 
signifies that all knowledge of matter is dependent 
on the particular constitution of the senses of the 
individual. The materialist cannot pretend to any 
knowledge of matter as it is in itself ; it can exist 
for him only so far as his senses perceive it to exist. 
"All our knowledge," says Professor Huxley, "is a 
knowledge of states of consciousness. Matter and 
force are, so far as we can know, mere names for 
certain forms of consciousness. What we call the 
material world is only known to us under the forms 
of the ideal world." ^ 

But if matter and force are mere names for cer- 
tain states of consciousness, what right has the 
materialist to ascribe to them any real existence 
independent of thought. Yet the whole system of 
scientific materialism is built up on the assumption 
of the real and independent existence of force and 
matter. We are told that force and matter are 

1 Macniillan's Magazine, May, 1870. See Herbert, Modern Real- 
ism, etc., p. 92. 



350 THE THEISriC ARGUMENT. 

eternal, that they are absolutely incapable of in- 
crease or diminution, of creation or annihilation. 
On what evidence are these assertions made ? Is 
the eternity of matter or of force anything which 
the senses report to us ? or is it a legitimate gen- 
eralization from anything that the senses report ? 
When he ventures to make these assertions, the ma- 
terialist asserts something that he could, by no pos- 
sibility, have learned through his senses, and some- 
thing that no experiment of science could have 
demonstrated. Modern materialism rests through- 
out upon a series of realistic hypotheses, and yet 
these hypotheses, from its own stand-point, are 
wholly untenable. Materialism claims to be a sys- 
tem which appeals only to principles that are rigidly 
scientific, yet it cannot reach one of the conclusions 
on which it most strongly insists without setting 
these principles aside. 

It would be, doubtless, an injustice to Mr. Her- 
bert Spencer to term him a materialist, as that term 
is commonly accepted. It is claimed, indeed, for 
his system, that it has finally and completely demon- 
strated the untenableness of the materialistic hy- 
pothesis, and it is frankly conceded by his followers 
that through no imaginable future advance in phys- 
ical discovery can the materialists ever be enabled 
to realize their desideratum of translating mental 
phenomena in terms of matter and motion. The 
latest results of scientific inquiry leave the gulf be- 
tween mind and matter as wide as in the time of 
Descartes. The attribute of one is thought, and 
of the other extension, and there is nothing like 
identity, or similarity, that can be traced between 
them. In Mr. Spencer's view, physical and mental 



THE ALTERNATIVE THEORIES. 35 1 

processes form parallel series of changes, insepa- 
rable in fact, though refusing to be identified in 
thought. In company with our mental processes 
there is an unbroken sequence of physical changes, 
so that physical and mental phenomena, though dis- 
tinct, are subjective and objective faces of the same 
fact, or, in other words, manifestations of an ulti- 
mate reality in which both are united. 

By this highly metaphysical hypothesis, Mr. 
Spencer seeks to extricate sensationalism from the 
dilemma in which it is involved, and preserve those 
realistic conceptions which seemed at first sight dis- 
sipated. Without pausing to dwell upon the inherent 
difficulties involved in this theory, it is enough for 
our present purpose to ask what it accomplishes. 
From the alleged fact that the order of its manifesta- 
tions throughout all mental phenomena proves to be 
the same as the order of its manifestations through- 
out all material phenomena, we are authorized to 
infer that it is one and the same ultimate reality that 
is thus manifested to us in these two ways ; but be- 
yond this we have no right to go. The nature of 
that which is revealed under these two forms re- 
mains forever inscrutable. Every hypothesis con- 
cerning the essence or attributes of this unknown 
reality can only illustrate our own mental impo- 
tence. Asserting persistence of power is but another 
mode of asserting an unconditioned reality without 
beginning or end. But the materialist may well ask, 
What advance in knowledge do we make by calling 
an eternal force an inscrutable power } 

I pass to consider the third alternative hypothesis 
which has been presented in our own time as a sub- 
stitute for theism, — the strange conception of the 



352 THE THE IS TIC ARGUMENT. 

universe and man which passes under the name of 
pessimism. Between materiaUsm and pessimism 
there is this broad distinction, that materialism, if 
an insufficient explanation, at least claims to be a 
rational explanation of the universe. It aims to 
meet certain intellectual wants, and to answer the 
questions that the mind instinctively puts itself 
when it considers the wondrous framework of the 
world. And it claims to exalt the motives of living, 
so far at least as the present life is concerned. Pes- 
simism, on the other hand, looks at the universe as 
a stupendous illusion, and expresses unqualified con- 
tempt for nature and life. It dismisses, as unworthy 
of the slightest regard, the demands of the intellect 
or the heart. Conscience it scorns as a chimera. 
Regarding the universe as throughout irrational, it 
makes no attempt to explain it. Good and evil are 
laid under the same condemnation. Considering 
existence itself an evil, it is brought logically to the 
dreary issue, that the only satisfactory solution of 
the problem of life is utter annihilation. 

While, in its scientific form, this theory is one of 
the most recent products of thought, in its funda- 
mental conceptions it is one of the most ancient. 
Without entering into the disputed question of the 
Buddhist Nirvana, it may be safely asserted that 
the Buddhist conception of life is essentially pessi- 
mistic. Evil, according to Buddhism, is of the very 
essence of existence. All sentient beings are made 
to mourn ; the world is a vale of tears. The stream 
of life bears on its tide nothing but uncertainty and 
sorrow. All pleasure is rooted in delusion, and 
dogged by pain. What are reckoned good things 
are only seemingly good ; the best of all is not to be. 



THE ALTERNATIVE THEORIES. 353 

It is as an escape from these evils that Nirvana is 
promised. Whether by this is meant a state of ab- 
solute extinction, or, as Max Miiller would have us 
think, a state of blissful quiescence and repose, what 
alone renders it alluring is the contrast it presents 
to the evils of life. There is nothing in this present 
life that should detain us, nothing that in the end 
will not fail to satisfy, nothing that is not at war 
with the highest good of the soul. In its estimate 
of the nature and wants of mortal existence, Bud- 
dhism is thoroughly pessimistic. 

That such a gospel should have been eagerly em- 
braced by so many millions of our race, would seem 
to show that it conforms to some powerful instincts 
of the human heart. We need not seek for such 
instincts in the dreamy East alone. The tendency 
has been wide-spread, and even Christianity has not 
held wholly aloof from it. Many forms of Christian 
mysticism have run very close to the Buddhist con- 
ception of life ; and from hymns that are sung every 
Sunday in our churches illustrations of a pessimistic 
habit of looking at things might be easily culled. 
Human life presents, in fact, a great variety of as- 
pects, each of which may be viewed in a cheerful or 
a despondent light ; and which of these two aspects 
will present itself depends, for the most part, on 
causes over which the individual has little or no con- 
trol. There are few of us who have not known sea- 
sons when life seemed a burden hard to be borne, 
and when we have almost longed for the narrow 
house where the weary are at rest. Pain, disap- 
pointment, sorrow, — these are the spectre shapes 
that lurk by every pathway ; and few are so uni- 
formly strong and healthy and prosperous that, at 

23 



354 ^-^^ THEISTIC ARGUMENT. 

unbidden moments, we are not conscious of their 
presence. Sunshine and shadow alternate on every 
landscape. 

Much of the most popular literature of every coun- 
try derives its principal charm from voicing this dis- 
content : " Vanity of vanities," says the Preacher, 
"all is vanity." " I have seen all the works that are 
done under the sun, and behold all is vanity and vex- 
ation of spirit." Classical literature abounds with 
similar complaints. The sunny Homer falls into a 
pessimistic vein when he says, " There is nothing 
whatever more wretched than man," ^ and the maxim 
of Menander is familiar to us all : " They whom the 
gods love die young." Seneca praises death as the 
best invention of nature, and the virtuous Marcus 
Aurelius holds it up as a positive good. Modern 
poetry is tinged with an absorbing sense of the sor- 
rows of life. It colors the beautiful conceptions of 
Shelley ; it utters itself, without restraint, in the 
lines of Byron, — 

" Count o'er the joys thine hours have seen, 
Count o'er thy days from anguish free, 
And know, whatever thou hast been, 
'T is something better not to be." ^ 

The intense, and often bitter, melancholy that per- 
vades the lines of Heine, the representation of all 
earthly good as fleeting and unsatisfying, show how 
strong is the hold of this view of life upon sensitive 
spirits. 

But it has been reserved for our time to elevate 
an occasional mood to the rank of a logical sys- 
tem, and to convert the laments of wearied and over- 
wrought natures into established conclusions of 

1 II. 17, 446. 2 \Eutha7ta5ia^ 



THE ALTERNATIVE THEORIES. 355 

science. Pessimism as a mere view of life is de- 
pendent on temperament, on circumstances, on bod- 
ily states ; but pessimism as presented in its most 
recent and famous form claims to rest on a solid 
basis of reasoned truth. The founder of pessimism, 
in this sense, is Arthur Schopenhauer, whose early 
career in letters was a disappointment, and whose 
views of life were doubtless tinged wdth gloom 
in consequence. According to Schopenhauer, the 
world of phenomena exists only for our percipient 
minds, and its essential character is therefore men- 
tal representation. Yet this phenomenal world is 
not the whole of existence. Behind it lies an un- 
explored remainder, an absolute something, tran- 
scending and enfolding all existence, which Schopen- 
hauer conceived as will. With him, will is the one 
universal substance : it appears in every blind force 
of nature ; it manifests itself in every conscious act 
of man. Thus will is the ultimate principle of all 
things. Unlike the materialists, who reduce will to 
force, Schopenhauer reverses the process, and re- 
duces all the forces of the organic and inorganic 
world to will. 

It is in the nature of will that Schopenhauer finds 
the basis of his pessimistic theory. Will is, in its 
nature, striving. In its absolute existence, blind, un- 
conscious, purposeless, it comes to self-conscious- 
ness in life. It manifests itself in man and the lower 
animals as will to live. Life is that for which every- 
thing pants and labors. F'rom this effort and strug- 
gle, it results that life is a constant discontent, — an 
insatiable thirst. Permanent satisfaction is out of 
the question. No sooner is any new stage reached 
than new wants are created, and the longer the 



356 THE THEISTIC ARGUMENT. 

process is continued the more these wants are mul- 
tiplied. For the misery of living, being thus es- 
sentially connected with the nature of will, increases 
in the direct ratio of consciousness, or intelligence. 
In the lower order of creatures it is trifling ; it be- 
comes intense in the vertebrates ; it reaches its 
maximum in man. Man is simply the concrete em- 
bodiment of a thousand needs. The more intelli- 
gent he is the more acute his suffering, and the man 
of genius suffers most acutely of all. Even habit, 
which dulls pleasure, increases sensibility to pain. 
Life is but a process of dying ; the history of the 
race a "dream, long, heavy, and confused." 

By Hartmann this theory is modified in form, but 
with the same substantial result. Whatever his own 
claims to be regarded as an independent thinker, his 
system must be regarded as a development of Scho- 
penhauer's main ideas. At all events, he reaches 
precisely the same conclusion. He accepts the same 
pessimistic view of life, and, like Schopenhauer, sees 
in the cessation of life the only ultimate relief for 
rational beings. That absolute ground behind phe- 
nomena which Schopenhauer defines as will, Hart- 
mann defines as the unconscious. Everywhere, he 
claims, in the processes of organic life, the action 
of unconscious will and unconscious intelUgence is 
clearly recognizable. But in the phenomena of in- 
stinct, this action of unconscious mind is much more 
distinctly presented. These phenomena clearly in- 
volve mental processes, and since they are not con- 
scious they must result from a will and an intelli- 
gence which are, in every sense, unconscious. But 
the great region in which the unconscious reveals 
itself is the human mind. In love, in feeling, in 



THE ALTERNATIVE THEORIES, 357 

pleasure and pain, in character, in artistic creation, 
it may be distinctly noted ; so that all the conscious 
acts of man may be traced back to an unconscious 
presiding and directing volition. 

From this fundamental conception his view of life 
springs. Since existence is thus due to the working 
of unconscious and unintelligent will, it is essentially 
irrational and incomplete. It is, in fact, a huge blun- 
der. Like Schopenhauer, he regards the impulse 
to will as the primary source of all the misery of life. 
He holds that it is of the nature of will to be eter- 
nally dissatisfied ; and since, in consequence, the sum 
of pain must always exceed the sum of pleasure, not 
to be is better than to be. As a conclusion based on 
a systematic examination of the facts of life, he does 
not hesitate to assert, not only that pain preponder- 
ates over pleasure as a general rule, but that, even 
with the most highly-favored individuals, this is the 
fact. If we look at the lauded results of progress 
they dwindle to nothing. Neither theoretical nor 
practical science have effected much for human hap- 
piness. Social and political progress may remove 
negative evils, but do nothing to promote the posi- 
tive pleasures of life. If we ask. What is the final 
end of the world-process, of the long evolution of 
life } the only answer that Hartmann gives us is, that 
the misery of life can be annihilated only by the 
total denial of will. 

So far as pessimism lays claim to any philosoph- 
ical basis it need not detain us long. In the mere 
conception of Schopenhauer, of the universe as hav- 
ing its sole ground of existence in will, there is much 
that is noble and elevated. It marks a great ad- 
vance upon materialism, for it gives a direct and ab- 



358 THE THEISTIC ARGUMENT. 

solute denial to the theory that all phenomena can 
be explained in terms of matter and motion. It car- 
ries the mind far back of mere physical causation. 
It insists that every object which is recognized by 
our senses, that every change which takes place in 
the universe, is but the manifestation of one infinite 
will. Any materialistic hypothesis of nature is ren- 
dered forever impossible by this theory. The result 
here reached, as I have endeavored to show in a 
former lecture, is one of vital import. But having 
reached this result, why stop here } If the universe 
is only a manifestation to sense of the universal will, 
which is the essence and internal nature of all things, 
which creates and sustains all things, why may we 
not argue from the constitution of the universe back 
to the characteristics of this will, which is precisely 
what we have been doing throughout this whole dis- 
cussion } 

Hartmann modifies the theory of Schopenhauer in 
tracing the universe to two principles, will and intel- 
lect, acting in inseparable but unconscious union. 
Consciousness does not exist until these two prin- 
ciples are partially divorced in man. He admits 
design in nature, recognizes in its adjustments the 
evidences of purpose ; but will not admit that the in- 
telligence and will, thus clearly manifested, are attri- 
butes of any conscious subject. The *' Unconscious " 
is the phrase with which he describes this principle 
of all things. But Hartmann, to establish his the- 
ory, follows the method of the physical sciences. 
He rests his conclusion almost wholly upon induc- 
tion from observed facts. The simple question, then, 
that presents itself is, What do facts show } This 
question, too, we have endeavored to answer in the 



THE ALTERNATIVE THEORIES. 359 

preceding discussion. No one denies that nature 
presents everywhere the evidence of unconscious ac- 
tion. In some instances, as with instinct in the lower 
animals, it is action with reference to an end. But 
nature presents just as clearly facts of another class, 
— facts that prove conscious and intelligent action, 
as illustrated in man. Shall we now explain the 
lower by the higher, or the higher by the lower } 

Pessimism makes its main appeal to the facts of 
life. From these facts it draws its conclusion re- 
specting the value of life. And, in making such 
appeal, it has not been without its use. In some 
respects it supplies a wholesome protest against a 
superficial optimism that has not been without its 
advocates. It serves as a corrective of the too com- 
placent view, which some have been inclined to take, 
of human life and of human destiny. This distinct 
vein of optimism runs through most of the moralists 
of the last century. By those writers the pains and 
evils of life are almost proved not to exist. Pessi- 
mism has a use in calling attention to the darker 
aspects of life. It will not let us lose sight of its 
mystery. It brings home to us, with unrivaled 
force, its solemn lessons. If it gives us no worthy 
solution of the problem of life, it at least does not 
evade, or set aside, or seek to misrepresent, those 
distinctive aspects of life which invest it with so 
much meaning. It forces upon the most thought- 
less the great fact that life, limited to earthly condi- 
tions, and looked at simply from a human point of 
view, is full of perplexing and inexplicable contra- 
dictions. 

In undertaking to make an estimate of the value 
of life, and give an answer to the question whether 



360 THE THEISTIC ARGUMENT. 

life is worth living, it is evident that all will depend 
upon whether we regard life as a fleeting state of 
consciousness, extinguished forever in the grave, or 
whether we look upon this life as a preparation for 
another. I am far from asserting that all the evils 
and sorrows of life find their explanation in the doc- 
trine of immortality, but it is plain that, in striking 
a balance between the good and the evil of life, the 
doctrine of a life to come, in which so much that 
seems evil in this present life might be turned into 
a means of good, would form a very important ele- 
ment in the calculation. But this element pessi- 
mism ignores, for it allows no future for man but the 
annihilation of his conscious personahty. It begs, 
at the outset, one of the essential questions which 
reasoning from the facts of life is meant to solve. 
The true answer to the pessimistic theory will be 
found, not in refusing to recognize the dark shadows 
of life, but in looking through these dark shadows 
to the light beyond. Faith in God furnishes the 
only satisfactory solution. 



LECTURE XII. 

THE INFERENCES FROM THEISM. 

I HAVE now brought to a close the task which I 
undertook. I trust that the manner in which the 
subject has been handled, however imperfect, has 
yet justified the claim which I made, at the outset, 
that though the theme was old as human thought, 
yet the altered phases of opinion respecting many 
of its fundamental aspects furnished ample excuse 
for giving it a fresh examination. With this con- 
ception of my task, it has not been my aim to re- 
view all the grounds of natural religion, but simply 
to ascertain how far those grounds have been affected 
by recent scientific theories. This has sometimes 
required me to restate familiar truths, and enter upon 
paths which have been frequently trodden ; but I 
have only done so when a different course would 
have left my argument obscure or incomplete. It 
would be evidently impossible to decide, v^th any 
satisfaction, how far the argument for theism has 
been modified by modern speculation without deter- 
mining the precise nature of the argument itself. 
For there are some forms of the argument which I 
would not undertake to defend. 

By a certain class of writers it has been asserted 
that the physical theories of the present day have 
placed the problems of natural theology upon a 
wholly new basis ; and that the more recent con- 



362 THE THEISTIC ARGUMENT. 

elusions of science, if they have not absolutely dis- 
proved, have at least rendered wholly unnecessary 
and gratuitous any hypothesis of a supernatural 
origin of the universe. The universe, with all its 
manifold phenomena of matter and of mind, can be 
sufficiently accounted for, we are assured, in terms 
of matter and motion ; and the conception, so long 
cherished, of an intelligent author of nature must 
give place to the doctrine of the persistence of en- 
ergy, of natural selection, and of evolution. Evolu- 
tion, especially, is the conjuring wand made use of 
to explain the riddle of existence. It has been my 
aim, throughout this whole discussion, to make evi- 
dent that, even if we accept these hypotheses as 
well established, they still do not touch the ultimate 
problems with which natural theology deals. They 
simply illustrate the method by which nature works ; 
they belong to the sphere of second causes ; they 
do not answer one of the questions which the mind 
is forced to put itself in presence of the transcend- 
ent mysteries of existence. 

Before leaving the subject I am anxious to make 
my views on this point perfectly clear. In the 
course of my argument I have frequently contro- 
verted theories which are classed as scientific, and 
may have seemed to place myself in opposition to 
the conclusions of science. I most earnestly dis- 
claim any such interpretation of my position, for I 
do not believe that there is, or that there can be, 
any antagonism between science and religion. I 
hold that so long as science confines herself to phe- 
nomena and their laws, any conclusions that she 
establishes are valid, and must be accepted without 
dispute, and I hold that science is never required 



THE INFERENCES FROM THEISM. 363 

to go beyond this. But I also hold that any satis- 
factory conception which we can form of nature, or 
life, involves inferences that go beyond phenomena, 
and that the whole structure of human knowledge 
rests on assumptions that science is not competent 
to establish. Science calls on us to exercise faith 
in many things not demonstrable by reason. In 
fact, we transcend phenomena, and put faith in the 
unseen when we infer the existence of a material 
world, just as much as when we infer the presence 
of a supernatural agency. 

Deducing my inferences both from the facts of 
the external world, as they are made clearly mani- 
fest to unbiased observation, and from the less evi- 
dent, but not less real, and more impressive facts of 
the inner world of consciousness and moral action 
in which we come nearest the mysterious source of 
energy, of volition, of life, I reached the conclu- 
sion that the most rational explanation that can be 
given of the universe, with all its varied manifesta- 
tions, both of matter and of mind, is the explana- 
tion which recognizes a being of infinite wisdom 
and power, in whose will all existence had its origin. 
I have not claimed that this infinite being can be 
more than imperfectly recognized by the limited in- 
tellect of man ; nor have I claimed that the exist- 
ence, even, of this being can be demonstrated as 
we demonstrate the abstract truths of science. I 
have only claimed that the universe, as a great fact, 
demands a rational explanation, and that the most 
rational explanation that can possibly be given is 
that furnished in the conception of such a being. 
In this conclusion reason rests, and refuses to rest 
short of any other. 



364 THE THEISTIC ARGUMENT. 

In asserting this much let me not, however, be un- 
derstood to imply that the conclusion here reached, 
simply as a rational inference from the facts of ex- 
ternal nature and of consciousness, is by any means 
coextensive or identical with that belief in God 
which is the essence of religion, and which has 
been such a controlling factor in the shaping of 
human character and of human society. The task 
which I have attempted has a much humbler and 
more limited scope than to account for such a phe- 
nomenon. All that I have aimed at has been to es- 
tablish the intellectual grounds for this belief, so far 
as they exist in nature alone. All that we have 
been able to reach by this process is a logical con- 
clusion, a result far short of the practical convic- 
tion by which men have been swayed. Such mere 
logical conclusions may remain abstract and power- 
less, with no vital relation to the deepest sources 
of belief and action. Yet, while it is only a step 
in establishing a positive theistic belief, it is an es- 
sential step, and whatever further and fuller conclu- 
sions we arrive at will be found to imply these pre- 
liminary postulates. 

And still less would I be thought to imply that 
belief in God, as it actually exists, and as it actually 
sways such countless multitudes of men, has had 
its origin in any such process of reasoning as I 
have here traced out. As a matter of fact, belief 
in a Supreme Being is never arrived at in this way. 
The great mass of mankind who sincerely accept 
this great truth, and who show in their daily lives 
that they are governed by it, have never reasoned 
about final causes, or analyzed the intuitions of the 
mind. If religion could only exist under this con 



THE INFERENCES FROM THEISM. 365 

dition, atheism must be the dismal refuge of the 
great majority of the race. It has been because 
they have been possessed with this beUef, because 
they have been conscious of the mighty hold it had 
upon them, because they have sought in vain to 
break its bands asunder and cast it away from them, 
that they have been prompted to analyze its rational 
grounds. Belief in God is a great primary fact in 
human nature, — a fact which individual conscious- 
ness establishes, and to which the experience of the 
whole race bears witness. It is older and deeper 
than any arguments about it. 

The positive religious value of the conclusions 
which we have thus far reached lies not in these 
conclusions, taken by themselves, but in the further 
inferences which we draw from them. The theistic 
argument, the steps of which have been traced in 
the foregoing lectures, if accepted as valid, estab- 
lishes a fundamental truth, — a truth, indeed, the 
most fundamental in human thought ; a truth which 
is the condition and ground of all religious belief; 
but yet a truth which, by itself, may remain a barren 
and abstract speculation. It is a truth which, dis- 
connected from other truths, is too illimitable to be 
grasped in human consciousness. That God exists, 
that he is infinitely wise and good, that he is a per- 
son, even, with affections analogous to those which 
are felt by us, — all these are statements which may 
be accepted without hesitation by the speculative 
intellect, but which yet can have little practical 
meaning, unless it can be further shown that there 
is some vital relation between this infinite being 
and ourselves. It is in bringing us to this conclu- 
sion that natural religion discharges its most impor- 
tant function. 



366 THE THEISTIC ARGUMENT. 

The connection between natural and revealed re- 
ligion, as I remarked in my opening lecture, is a 
question on which opinions are by no means harmo- 
nious ; and the line of distinction between them is 
one that cannot be traced with entire precision ; but 
it is clear that they must stand or fall together. 
And this for the simple reason that the conclusions 
of natural religion are the postulates on which re- 
vealed religion rests. Hence, unless the results of 
the preceding discussion are accepted ; unless we 
concede that the material universe furnishes evi- 
dence of the existence of an immaterial cause ; un- 
less we concede that human faculties, though lim- 
ited, can overleap the limits of the finite and the 
sensible, that in nature they can recognize the pres- 
ence of the supernatural, it is idle to make any ap- 
peal to the teachings of revelation. And it is equally 
true, that all the conclusions we have reached re- 
specting the existence and attributes of a Supreme 
Being remain an idle speculation, unless we proceed 
to draw from these conclusions the further infer- 
ences they involve respecting the relations of that 
being to ourselves. 

I am well aware that in any inferences from nat- 
ural religion as to the possible nature, or contents, 
of a revealed religion we should proceed with the 
utmost caution. On subjects so much above the 
ordinary range of our reasoning, any conclusions 
must be accepted with hesitation. Unless we tread 
warily on such a road we may prove more than we 
intend. The most discreet and sober of theologians, 
Bishop Butler, warns us that we are in no sort judges, 
beforehand, by what laws or rules, or in what de- 
gree, or by what means, God would instruct us, 



THE INFERENCES FROM THEISM. 367 

either by the use of our natural powers, or through a 
supernatural revelation. Yet he gives us the exam- 
ple, in his famous work, of the method of reasoning 
by analogy from the truths of natural to the truths 
of revealed religion. We cannot doubt that such 
reasoning is legitimate, and that the inferences which 
it involves must be accepted. And all that we have 
ascertained with regard to uniformity of method in 
the physical universe must dispose us to believe 
that between the truths of natural and the truths of 
revealed religion some close correspondence must 
exist. 

Throughout these lectures, as you cannot fail to 
have observed, I have earnestly combated the opinion 
that either the methods or the conclusions of mod- 
ern science, when rightly comprehended, are antag- 
onistic to religious truth. Still, it has fallen within 
the scope of this discussion to show this simply with 
reference to natural religion. My proper subject 
did not go. beyond this. But now I will go further, 
and express my profound conviction that the meth- 
ods of modern science and the new conceptions of 
the physical universe which it has been the work of 
modern science to render familiar not only are not 
antagonistic to revealed truth, but will be ultimately 
found to harmonize more completely with that truth 
than the conceptions which they have displaced. In 
other words, the dynamical conception of nature as 
a plastic organism, pervaded by a system of corre- 
lated forces, uniting at last in one supreme force, is 
altogether more in harmony with the spirit and the 
teachings of the gospel than the mechanical concep- 
tion which prevailed a century ago, which insisted 
on viewing nature as an intricate machine, fashioned 
by a great artificer who stood wholly apart from it. 



368 THE THEISTIC ARGUMENT. 

I proceed to trace some of the more obvious in- 
ferences that follow from the theistic conclusion 
which has been established. The inquiry must have 
pressed itself upon many among us during the course 
of the preceding discussion : If all this be true, — 
if there exists, as is claimed, a being of infinite wis- 
dom and goodness ; a being whose will created and 
whose power sustains all that we see around us ; a 
being, above all, who has caused to come into ex- 
istence a creature capable of recognizing these attri- 
butes, and yearning for communion with the unseen 
source of his existence, — why should a truth so fun- 
damental, so impressive, so consoling, be left veiled 
in so much obscurity ? With the earliest impulses 
of conscious life the child learns to recognize its 
earthly parent ; the mother's fond caress is the first 
convincing evidence of something outside itself ; 
why should the existence of a heavenly parent re- 
main to be demonstrated by such laborious argu- 
mentation ? Why should the human soul be left in 
any doubt and uncertainty respecting the existence 
and character of the being in whom all things con- 
sist ? 

If it be true that such a being exists, if it be true 
that there is a God, that he is endowed with moral 
attributes, that all human creatures are subject to a 
moral law, that to this law their actions must be con- 
formed, that the end of their creation can be realized 
only so far as this conformity is attained, no one can 
doubt that the knowledge of this being and of this 
moral government is more essential to the welfare 
of man than any other knowledge. No knowledge 
of mere natural things can for a moment be weighed 
with it. We can understand that a sincere and in- 



THE INFERENCES FROM THEISM. 369 

genuous mind may be haunted with doubts of the 
divine existence. If we accept the assurances of 
some sober thinkers, it is possible to look abroad 
over the creation ; possible to recognize, to the full- 
est extent, the wonderful harmony and intricate 
adaptations of the physical world ; possible to study 
the impressive workings of man's moral nature, and 
not be convinced of the divine existence. But it is 
impossible to conceive that any one can concede the 
fact of that existence, and not regard the knowledge 
of God as the most excellent of all knowledge. 

It does not matter in the least how human nature, 
as such, came to exist. We take it simply as a fact, 
— as a fact just as real, just as indubitable, with the 
same claim to our attention, and as capable of being 
examined and understood as any fact of the physical 
universe. No matter how man began his career. 
We may accept, if you please, the most extreme hy- 
pothesis, which explains not only his physical but his 
intellectual and even his moral being from a long 
process of evolution, reaching back to the fiery cloud 
which, we are told, was once the sole thing floating 
in space ; still, with his present endowments and at- 
tributes and yearnings, he remains just as much a 
fact, and just as much the supreme result which the 
travailing creation has thus far brought forth. He 
is the marvelous world-child ; in him the whole effort 
of nature is summed up. And it cannot be denied 
that the characteristic thing about him is his appe- 
tency for the invisible. Creature of time and sense, 
he instinctively strives to pass these barriers. With 
large discourse of reason, he longs to lift the veil 
and solve the great mystery of life and death. 

According to the view which has been strenuously 
24 



370 THE THEISTIC ARGUMENT. 

insisted on throughout these lectures, the existence 
of such a rational being can only be explained as the 
result of a divine purpose. Evolution itself becomes 
a rational explanation of the universe and a working 
hypothesis only on this admission. Evolution, by 
itself, is a mere process, which, in turn, needs to be 
accounted for. We cannot conceive of evolution 
out of nothing, nor can we conceive of orderly and 
progressive evolution save with the admission of di- 
recting intelligence behind it. So that man, how- 
ever we may explain the method by which he came 
to exist, must be regarded as a divine product ; and 
not only this, but, so far as we know, as the highest 
product of creative power. He is the image of his 
Maker. In his moral freedom and power of choice 
and capacity of originating acts, he supplies us with 
the most adequate commentary on the power by 
which the worlds were made. Nor can we admit all 
this, and not proceed to draw the conclusion that 
such a being must have been meant for a more inti- 
mate communion with his Maker than mere nature 
affords. 

It seems to me beyond a doubt that the truths of 
natural religion not only furnish the basis for re- 
vealed religion, but that they render the fact of a 
revelation in the highest degree probable ; or, in 
other words, that revelation is not only a historical 
fact, capable of being brought into harmony with 
the doctrines of natural religion, but that natural 
religion furnishes the antecedent grounds from 
which the fact of a revelation might be inferred. 
In truth, revelation is a postulate of human nature, 
when we use the term in the large and adequate 
sense which alone covers the facts in the case. All 



THE INFERENCES FROM THEISM. 371 

human history shows that man is not satisfied with 
his present surroundings. He looks before and 
after ; he asks himself the question, Whence am I, 
and whither shall I go ? He instinctively reaches 
after the source of things. The centuries ring with 
his cry, "■ If a man die shall he live again } " Man 
is as distinctively a religious animal as he is a social 
animal, and by the whole make and strain of his 
being he is forced to murmur, '*Oh, that I knew 
where I might find Him ! " 

When I thus claim that revelation is a postulate 
of human nature, I mean the fact of a revelation, not 
its specific contents. I am aware that it may be 
objected that this claims too much; that if revela- 
tion be thus accepted as a postulate of human nat- 
ure, we are logically led to the conclusion that rev- 
elation must have been primeval and universal. But 
this is a conclusion from which I not only do not 
shrink, but one which, on every account, I am in- 
clined to accept. Such a conclusion seems to me 
not only in the highest degree probable when we 
reason from the truths of natural religion, but to be 
in accordance with the traditions of the past. All 
these preserve the memory of an early guidance 
of the race, and tell us of the day when man was 
cheered with divine communications. And, however 
we may suppose that these primeval traditions have 
been overlaid with myth and legend, and however 
difficult it may be, at the present day, to separate 
the original germ from the subsequent accretion, 
the fact seems attested beyond doubt. And to this 
great truth of a primeval revelation, I need hardly 
add, the Hebrew Scriptures bear impressive testi- 
mony. 



372 THE THEISTIC ARGUMENT, 

I by no means assert that, on the grounds sup- 
plied by natural religion, we can demonstrate a pri- 
ori the contents of a revelation, for were that possi- 
ble the need of a revelation would no longer exist. 
Could we foretell with certainty the precise import 
of the message, we should need no further informa- 
tion respecting its source. In the very idea of rev- 
elation is involved the existence of truth which we 
could arrive at in no other way. It would cease 
to be revelation if it contained nothing more than 
the unaided reason could search out. As a mani- 
festation of the absolute truth, it must contain ele- 
ments outside the bounds of finite inquiry. All 
that I insist on is that human nature, in the course 
of its development, and as a necessary result of that 
development, reaches a point where it is no longer 
satisfied with the conditions of its existence ; where, 
like a child that has come to man's estate, and is 
no longer capable of being pleased with childish 
things, it demands a new environment, and yearns 
for a fuller knowledge, and is haunted with the 
larger problems that spread out before it. 

Now if we concede that the human soul has been 
brought to this stage by a normal development ; that 
these yearnings, instincts, appetences, — whatever 
they may be called — are inseparable from the ad- 
vanced state of progress to which it has been 
brought ; that they are the logical consequence of 
a process of moral and spiritual evolution, no matter 
at what point that process began, or by what agen- 
cies or methods it has been carried on, then I claim 
that the accepted teachings of modern science war- 
rant the inference that these new wants and new 
capacities would be provided for by some modifica- 



THE INFERENCES FROM THEISM. 373 

tion of the conditions of its existence. We may 
safely assert this much, and assert no more than is 
asserted by those who claim that the physical, the 
moral, the social condition of man, as he exists to- 
day, in the highest stage of his development, is 
the consequence of a correlation between the inner 
growth and the external environment. A revela- 
tion to waiting, expecting, yearning man of spirit- 
ual truth would be the most complete, the most im- 
pressive, the most beautiful illustration of this law. 

If, in answer to this, it be said that revelation, if 
we regard it thus as a continuation of a great sys- 
tem of development, reaching back to the very be- 
ginning of things, should itself bear the marks of 
progress, and show a continuous unfolding, I reply 
that such is undoubtedly the fact. All that natural 
religion can do is to render a revelation probable, 
and show that such illumination of man's spiritual 
life, from a source outside himself, is strictly in 
analogy with the whole method of nature ; the pre- 
cise scope of a revelation can only be learned from 
a study of the revelation itself. Here we revert to 
the facts of history. That a revelation is reason- 
able, that a revelation is probable, the instincts of 
the soul and the methods by which the universe 
has been produced unite to show ; but to learn how 
it was really made, to ascertain how far the actual 
fact conforms to this anticipation, we must study the 
records of human experience. From an investiga- 
tion of the actual course of these divine illumina- 
tions, as they cast their radiant light across the 
page of history, must we trace their correspondence 
with natural laws. 

Now, if we look at that revelation which asserts 



374 '^^^^ THEISTIC ARGUMENT. 

itself as the supreme communication to man from 
the spiritual world, we find it marked by nothing 
more indubitably than by this very characteristic of 
progressive adaptation, both to human capacities 
and to human wants. First the blade, then the ear, 
then the full corn in the ear ; this is the note of 
revelation, from the simple faith of the patriarchs 
on to the fuller day when man was taught the great 
lesson that he is a son of God. But the Old and 
New Testaments are vocal with this truth. And 
nothing in the New Testament is more marked and 
more significant than the constant assertion of the 
organic connection between the earliest simple com- 
munication and the final complete manifestation. 
It has passed to a maxim that what was hid in the 
Old Testament is brought to light in the New, and 
that lawgivers, prophets, and apostles, how dimly 
soever they may have realized the fact, were en- 
gaged in one great work, and were the ministers 
of one organic, ever advancing revelation. In the 
apostle's phrase, " they drank of that [same] spirit- 
ual rock." 

In a natural desire to emphasize the claims of rev- 
elation, it has been too much the custom to draw a 
sharp line of distinction between natural and re- 
vealed religion ; and hence, as a consequence, to 
represent the latter as something in its nature ex- 
ceptional and wholly out of the common course. 
Thus the argument from miracles has been assigned 
a wholly disproportioned prominence among Chris- 
tian evidences. Such reasoning is of the same kind 
with that which leads a savage to see a more evident 
token of the divine presence in an eclipse than in 
the orderly movements of Orion and Arcturus. If, 



THE IiYFERENCES FROM THEISM. 375 

as we have seen, the creation is controlled by uni- 
form laws, the instructed mind sees in the regular 
sequence of phenomena, in the harmonious move- 
ments of the heavenly bodies, in the unfailing suc- 
cession of seed-time and harvest, the most striking 
testimony to the existence of an intelligent cause. 
Such a mind is most conscious of the presence of 
God, not in the earthquake, nor in the whirlwind, 
but in the still voice in which day utters to day and 
night shows to night the power and wisdom of the 
Creator. 

So it seems to me that the most convincing proof 
of the truth of any revelation is to be found, not in 
the fact that it stands apart from nature, still less in 
the fact that it seemingly contradicts or suspends 
any of the laws of nature ; but rather in the fact 
that it corresponds with nature, and that while going 
beyond it, while disclosing truths which mere exter- 
nal nature could not suggest, and which it never 
even entered into the heart of man to conceive, it 
still, in its supreme disclosures, conforms to the anal- 
ogy of nature, and follows the method which nature 
in a lower sphere has indicated. Thus it is that rev- 
elation carries with it the irresistible conviction that 
the truths of nature and the truths of revelation 
have proceeded from the same source, and that all 
the testimony which has been furnished by one to 
the divine existence and the divine attributes is not 
contradicted, but confirmed, by the other. Such a 
revelation does not perplex reason and confuse the 
inferences drawn by the mind from nature, but 
stands in harmony with the whole system of things. 

In the very idea of revelation as the communica- 
tion of truth above the ordinary level of human 



376 THE THEISTIC ARGUMENT. 

knowledge, and not attainable in the normal exercise 
of the human faculties, there is involved not only 
the possibility, but the anterior probability, that it 
would be accompanied with unusual phenomena. 
These phenomena are not, however, so much an es- 
sential part of the revelation as its incidental con- 
comitant. They would not so much demonstrate its 
truth to those disposed to doubt or reject it, as con- 
firm its truth to those already inclined to accept it. 
And however exceptional or abnormal such phe- 
nomena might seem, it is clear that they derive this 
character solely from the point of view from which 
they might be considered ; since our knowledge of 
the powers of nature and of the relations of matter 
and spirit is far too limited to warrant any one of us 
in affirming that what seem to us the most excep- 
tional facts and most contrary to our own experi- 
ences may not be the natural and necessary result of 
some higher potencies of which we know nothing. 

It would, however, be a most natural and possible 
anticipation that these exceptional phenomena at- 
tending a revelation would be most marked at its 
earlier stages, and that, with its progressive recep- 
tion, they would either wholly disappear or become 
its normal operation. To borrow an imperfect illus- 
tration from physical science, revelation in this 
respect may be likened to the transformation of en- 
ergy. In the familiar case of heat, this transforma- 
tion takes place between two bodies that differ in 
temperature. We get no work from heat unless part 
of it can fall from a higher to a lower grade. When 
two bodies differ greatly in temperature the trans- 
formation is violent ; but as the level of the one ap- 
proaches that of the other, the transformation is 



THE INFERENCES FROM THEISM. 377. 

more gentle and unobserved. So a revelation of 
spiritual truth to a race whose light was darkened 
would be attended with marvels, while to a race 
whose moral level had been raised precisely the same 
truth might be communicated without giving any 
violent wrench to their previous conceptions. 

This course of reasoning derives a striking con- 
firmation from the recorded history of revelation. 
Such a record, I need hardly say, is peculiarly liable 
to become tinctured, in the course of time, with hu- 
man elements, and hence can only claim acceptance 
as subject to sound canons of historical criticism. 
With this qualification, the record of revelation 
shows one manifest and undeniable characteristic : 
that the most surprising phenomena belong always 
to its beginning, while, in its highest stage, the 
merely marvelous is always subordinated to the 
spiritual element. This feature, which is characteris- 
tic of the history of revelation as a whole, is further 
exemplified in the career of Jesus. His most sur- 
prising works were always witnessed in his contact 
with those who were just drawn to him, and with 
whom faith was undeveloped. With the inner circle 
of his disciples he ceases to be a wonder-worker, and 
in the last and loftiest revelation of himself to them, 
on the night before he was betrayed, he is simply 
the divine teacher, the true bread of life. 

In the recorded miracles of Jesus I note two un- 
varying characteristics, — characteristics which have 
been far too much lost sight of by many of the most 
zealous defenders of his claims. In the first place, 
he always refused to work miracles simply as mar- 
velous displays of power. He never made use of 
miracles as a means of convincing unbelief ; on the 



378 THE THE IS TIC ARGUMENT, 

contrary, when unbelief was present, he steadfastly 
refused to do any of his mighty works. The doubts 
respecting his mission seem to have arisen mainly 
from his persistent refusal to work miracles simply 
to attest his mighty power. In him the miraculous 
was always secondary and incidental. In the sec- 
ond place, when his miraculous power was exercised 
it was always exercised not as something excep- 
tional and strained, but as the purely normal and 
easy exercise of a power belonging to him. In the 
midst of his most wonderful works he seems to be 
pursuing the perfectly even tenor of his way, and 
when putting in play his most astounding powers 
betrays no consciousness that he was lifted in the 
least above his ordinary level. His resurrection is 
represented as a natural result. 

In the record of miracles the greatest of all mir- 
acles is Jesus himself. The more closely and dis- 
passionately we study his career, the more pro- 
foundly shall we be convinced of this. I do not 
now refer to him in any of the dogmatic or ecclesi- 
astical aspects in which he is usually presented, and 
in which the most significant features of his char- 
acter are too often obscured, but I refer to him sim- 
ply as an authentic fact of human history. What- 
ever interpretation we may choose to put upon him, 
whatever degree of obedience we may choose to 
accord to him, respecting his purely historical posi- 
tion, his actual relation to the cause of man's spir- 
itual development, there is no room for dispute. 
The most obdurate skeptic must recognize him as 
the most significant fact with which the student 
of history has to deal. In him centres, beyond 
doubt, the most complete revelation in the inner 



THE INFERENCES FROM THEISM. 7)79 

life of man of which the human race has had any 
experience, and to him, as their source and fountain- 
head, reach back the most commanding influences 
that fashion modern civiUzation. 

Yet what must strike every one of us most for- 
cibly, as we study this marvelous career, is its per- 
fect simplicity and naturalness. Asserting himself 
as a revelation in human life of the divine nature, 
he was the most intensely human of all religious 
teachers. Separate from men in the sinless purity 
of his life, he drew the outcast, and forsaken, and 
contemned to him with a might as irresistible as it 
was gentle and mild. He entered into the springs 
of human life, and touched its sympathies, and kin- 
dled its hopes, and drew forth its confidence and 
love, as could only be done by one who was himself 
in full sympathy with human wants. He taught 
transcendent truths, — truths that man had never 
conceived ; but he taught these truths in words that 
were heard gladly by common people, and set them 
forth in illustrations and parables drawn from the 
most familiar incidents of every-day life. He did 
mighty works ; he restored sight to the blind, he 
raised the dead, but he constantly reminded his 
hearers that better and greater than these wonders 
was the Dractice of the common duties of life, — to 
love our neighbor, to do good to such as despitefully 
use us. 

In further illustration of this, let us not omit to 
note the significant declarations which Jesus makes 
respecting himself. At the beginning of his min- 
istry he speaks with the authority of a master. He 
calls on his hearers to give up all that they have 
and follow him, and he calls in a tone of authority 



380 THE THEISTIC ARGUMENT. 

which they are constrained to recognize and obey. 
His relation to them is external. He stands above 
them as their lord and king. So filled are they 
with the sense of his superiority that, in their rever- 
ence, they cast their very garments in the way before 
him. But when, at the close of his career, he comes 
to the deepest and truest and most inmost revela- 
tion of himself, his relation is represented, not as 
official and external, but as essential and internal. 
In that wonderful discourse in which he set forth 
most adequately the true nature of his spiritual 
kingdom, he describes himself under the most sim- 
ple analogies of the natural world. He is the true 
vine of which they are the branches ; he is the liv- 
ing bread which is given to them. He is no longer 
a mere teacher, but he abides in them, and they are 
made perfect as they abide in him. 

Who can fail to notice the striking analogy be- 
tween these highest teachings of Jesus and the 
latest results of our study of the natural world } 
As physical science has brought us to the conclu- 
sion that, back of all the phenomena of the material 
universe, there lies an invisible universe of forces, 
and that these forces may ultimately be reduced to 
one all-pervading force, in which the unity of the 
physical universe consists, and as philosophy has 
advanced the rational conjecture that this ultimate, 
all-pervading force is simply will-force, so the great 
Teacher holds up to us the spiritual world as per- 
vaded by one omnipresent life, — a life which was 
revealed in him as its highest manifestation, but 
which is shared by all who by faith become par- 
takers of his nature. When we are told that the 
Word, by whom all things were made, was made 



THE INFERENCES FROM THEISM. 38 1 

flesh and dwelt among us, that the eternal reason 
abode in human form, we are not only told nothing 
that science contradicts, but have revealed to us a 
law of the spiritual world with which all the latest 
conclusions of science stand up in mighty and im- 
pressive parallel. 

When we separate Christianity from its mere ex- 
ternal circumstances, when we strip it of the dress 
which it wears of necessity as a historical event, 
related to a particular age and social state, and look 
at it in its deeper meaning, nothing about it seems 
to me so striking as this feature of which I now 
speak. It is a larger and fuller illustration of what 
nature everywhere shows. For not only does nat- 
ural religion, considered fairly, make antecedently 
probable the fact of a revelation ; not only does all 
that it reveals of the existence and nature of a Su- 
preme Being, and of man's spiritual aptitudes and 
wants, prepare us to anticipate a time when man 
and his Maker would be brought into some closer 
contact and communion, but all that we learn of the 
processes of nature, of its progressive evolution, and 
of the presence of an all-pervading force shaping its 
phenomena still further prepares us for a revelation 
which is not a mere system of external laws and or- 
dinances, but a spiritual force dwelling in man, and 
operating directly upon the human will. 

The last and highest conclusion to which the re- 
searches of physical science have brought us is that 
there is a power behind nature making itself mani- 
fest through all natural phenomena. The highest, 
and at the same time the simplest, aspect in which 
Christianity is revealed to us is that of a new spirit- 
ual power imparted to human society. That stu- 



382 THE THE IS TIC ARGUMENT. 

pendous fact which we term the incarnation was 
simply this. It was the dweUing in human nature 
of a divine life and energy, the lifting of man to 
a higher level of spiritual activity. When Jesus 
chose for his favorite designation of himself the 
title " Son of Man," he hinted this great analogy 
between the natural and the spiritual spheres. As 
Son of Man he expressed and illustrated the crown- 
ing result of a human development, for in him hu- 
manity reached its highest level. Even when as- 
serting his most intimate relations with the Father, 
he still spoke of himself as Son of Man. And, as 
Son of Man, he expressed the further truth that 
what he claimed for himself he claimed for his fol- 
lowers. They were his brethren. They, too, had 
power given them to become sons of God ! The 
incarnation meant all this. 

We are too much accustomed to look at the 
manifestation of God in Christ as something excep- 
tional and apart ; as something having no precedent, 
or analogy, or hint in any other modes of the divine 
working. Hence, as too often presented, the doc- 
trine of the incarnation perplexes human reason. 
But there is no justification whatever for such a view. 
Not only is the incarnation in harmony with the 
method of nature, but it is uniformly described in 
Scripture as something wholly within the natural 
course and tendency of things. It was heralded by 
a long historical preparation ; it is represented as the 
crowning result of a connected series of social and 
political changes ; it came in the fullness of times. 
Everything about it shows that it was part of a pur- 
pose which had long been ripening, — realization, in 
fact, of a plan formed from the foundation of the 



THE INFERENCES FROM THEISM. 383 

world. All this, while it does not in the least de- 
tract from the divine origin or authority of the Son 
of Man, yet sets him in the line of other historical 
phenomena, and reveals him, in his highest and 
truest aspect, as part and parcel of the whole sys- 
tem of things. 

Hence it seems to me that the mode of conceiv- 
ing the operations of nature which is most widely 
accepted to-day, which goes under the general des- 
ignation of evolution, instead of rendering the great 
cardinal truths of the gospel less credible, only ren- 
ders them more credible. Such a revelation of God 
as is given us in Jesus Christ is precisely the kind 
of revelation which the methods of divine operation, 
revealed in nature, would lead us to expect. It is a 
revelation throughout natural, simple, prepared for, 
coming as the result of a process, and illustrating in 
its coming all the antecedent steps and features of 
that process. The Son of Man did not separate 
himself from what had gone before, but ever claimed 
that he was only the complete fulfillment of what the 
law and the prophets had imperfectly taught. Most 
of all, the excellence of the gospel consisted in the 
fact that it was an inner dispensation ; not an out- 
ward kingdom, not a system of external laws and 
ordinances, but a spiritual principle working in the 
soul, like the leaven which a woman took and hid 
in three measures of meal till the whole was leav- 
ened. 

But we may trace this close analogy between nat- 
ural and spiritual methods, not only in the great cen- 
tral fact of revelation, the manifestation of the eter- 
nal Word. What is so clearly illustrated at the 
beginning of the new dispensation is not less clearly 



384 THE THEISTIC ARGUMENT. 

shown in its whole subsequent history. Not simply 
in the career of Christ himself, but in all that he 
teaches respecting the spiritual kingdom which he 
came to establish, we have the great truth set forth 
that the natural and the spiritual are not antagonis- 
tic, but that they proceed according to the same 
method and illustrate similar laws. As we rise from 
the realm of nature to the realm of spirit, we do not 
enter a strange and unfamiliar region. The same 
divine power is manifest in both, and is manifest in 
analogous ways of working. In his last sayings to 
his disciples, the Son of Man most urgently insisted 
on this truth. When he likened himself to a vine 
of which. He declared, they were the branches, he 
hinted to them the nature of that profound law by 
which the kingdom of nature and the kingdom of 
spirit are bound together. 

When we look at external nature we are every- 
where struck with the presence of two great princi- 
ples, to which all the phenomena of the external 
world conform. These two, as I have already had 
occasion repeatedly to remark, are the law of unity 
and the law of progress. There is, through all the 
material universe, an organic connection, by virtue 
of which nothing stands apart and alone, but all 
things are members one of another ; and precisely 
as we rise in the scale of being this organic unity 
and completeness are more apparent. It is by virtue 
of this organic relation that all the forces of nature 
are resolved, at last, into one force. And not less 
striking is the other law, everywhere manifest, by 
which the phenomena of nature follow an orderly 
succession, and constantly rise from a less perfect 
to a more perfect state. The physical history of 



THE INFERENCES FROM THEISM. 385 

creation, so far as the curious eye of science has 
traced it back, is an illustration of this principle. 
Each stage of inorganic or organic being has led to 
another and better, and evolution from a lower to a 
higher has been the universal law. 

Who can fail to note the fact that, in all that the 
Son of Man taught respecting the future growth and 
influence of that gospel which he so aptly likened to 
a grain of mustard-seed, we have these two princi- 
ples continually set forth. He made organic unity 
the fundamental and essential condition of the new 
dispensation. This unity was set forth under the 
most expressive figures. Not only was he the true 
vine, but except his followers should abide in him 
they could bear no fruit. Christian life was not 
something sporadic and individual, having its source 
in the personal conviction of each disciple ; it im- 
plied a real connection with Christ as the head. A 
spiritual power was promised to dwell in them 
which proceeded from one source, and should make 
itself felt in all as one and the same power. In 
other words, we have here repeated the great princi- 
ple which physical nature everywhere presents ; and 
just as back of all the phenomena of nature we have 
one pervading force, so behind all the varieties of 
Christian life and of Christian character we have 
one spiritual power. The truth is no more myste- 
rious in the one case than in the other. 

Furthermore, as nature shows everywhere a con- 
stant progress from the lower to the higher, so the 
Son of Man taught that his kingdom would be gov- 
erned by the same law. In the very nature of the 
new dispensation this was involved ; for this new dis- 
pensation was always described as a new life, and 
25 



386 THE THEISTIC ARGUMENT. 

the unfailing characteristic of life is progress and 
growth. When growth stops, decay and death be- 
gin. The gospel of Jesus was a proclamation of 
life ; in him was life, and the aim of his coming was 
that men might have it more abundantly. And he 
taught, unmistakably, that this life would be pro- 
gressive, not only in the individual, but in the larger 
scope and result of history. All the analogies and 
figures under which the Son of Man describes the 
future history of his church conform to the great 
law written on every page of the volume of nature. 
This new life should pervade human society as 
leaven leavens the loaf ; it should spread among the 
nations as a seed grows to be a free. That pressing 
toward the mark of an unrealized perfection, which 
was the characteristic of a genuine disciple, would 
be, not less the characteristic of the whole body of 
Christ. 

These truths received their complete expression 
in the Christian doctrine of the Holy Spirit. In 
this doctrine which in its scope and bearings is far 
too much neglected, we have set forth the permanent 
relation of divine truth, both to the individual soul 
and to human society. It reveals the method by 
which the divine Spirit makes itself effectual in the 
life of man. According to the latest teachings of the 
Son of Man, his own personal mission was simply 
meant as preparatory to another, — a higher and a 
permanent dispensation. His own departure would 
be the signal for the outpouring of a new spiritual life 
which would abide with his followers as their organ- 
izing, directing, and controlling principle. It would 
be a force behind them, a force working through 
them, a force making itself manifest in their lives. 



THE INFERENCES FROM THEISM. 38/ 

This indwelling life and power would at once sup- 
ply the pervading principle of unity, by which, 
though many, they should always remain one, and 
the principle of progress, by which they should be 
brought to the mark of their high calling. 

In the doctrine of the Holy Spirit we have, there- 
fore, the most complete revelation of the harmony 
of the natural and the spiritual world. Here the 
methods of physical nature and the methods by 
which the divine Spirit directly teaches and illumi- 
nates human souls are made to illustrate and con- 
firm each other. They are seen to be, not antago- 
nistic, but harmonious ; and we recognize the same 
power working in all things and through all things, 
and bringing all things to pass, whether we look at 
the works of nature or look at the spiritual life of 
man. These two revelations lend to each other 
a convincing and overwhelming support. As we 
accept in its fullness the Christian doctrine of the 
Spirit, we shall learn to look on all nature, not as a 
mass of inert matter, but as everywhere pervaded by 
a living presence ; and so too, just as much, if we 
accept the modern conclusions of science respecting 
the force behind all phenomena, to which organiza- 
tion and life are due, we shall be disposed to accept 
the teaching of revelation respecting the work of the 
Spirit. 

My limits allow me to glance only in the most 
superficial way at a few aspects of a great and sol- 
emn theme. Of course in the general idea at the 
bottom of my discussion there is nothing new. The 
analogy between the truths of natural and of revealed 
religion is an old and familiar theme. We have all 
learned it from one of the wisest masters of English 



388 THE THEISTIC ARGUMENT. 

theology. " Men," says Bishop Butler, " are impa- 
tient and for precipitating things ; but the author of 
nature appears deliberate throughout his operations, 
accomplishing his natural ends by slow successive 
steps. And there is a plan of things beforehand 
laid out, which, from the nature of it, requires vari- 
ous systems of means, as well as length of time, in 
order to the carrying on its several parts into execu- 
tion. Thus, in the daily course of natural provi- 
dence, God operates in the same manner as in the 
dispensation of Christianity : making one thing sub- 
servient to another ; this to something further ; and 
so on through a progressive series of means, which 
extend, both backward and forward, beyond our ut- 
most view. Of this everything in nature is as much 
an instance as any part of the Christian dispensa- 
tion." i 

But the special point on which I insist is this : 
that this reasoning of Butler, instead of being weak- 
ened, has been greatly extended and enlarged by 
the results of modern science. From the obvious 
course of natural phenomena he reasoned to the 
more obvious teachings of revelation. What I claim 
is, that the modified views of nature to which modern 
science has accustomed us, views which were not 
accepted in Butler's time, have brought out, in a still 
more striking manner, the analogy between the 
methods of nature and the most distinctive and spir- 
itual teachings of revelation. Modern science rests 
throughout on realistic assumptions. It tends to 
recognize in all nature a pervading unity. Behind 
phenomena it discovers what no phenomena directly 
reveal. It regards the universe as a process for 

1 \Analogy, P. II., ch. iv.] 



THE INFERENCES FROM THEISM. 389 

which matter cannot account ; and in all this I am 
glad to welcome a habit of mind, a mode of con- 
ceiving truth, which, whatever its present attitude, 
must ultimately tend to harmonize with the highest 
teachings of revelation. 

And now, at the risk of what may seem to you a 
wearisome repetition, let me sum up in few words 
the results of this whole discussion. I have sought 
to show not only that the rational grounds on 
which we believe in the existence of God have not 
been affected by any of the recent conclusions of 
science, but that these conclusions lead us to a 
point where this belief is forced upon us with irre- 
sistible power ; that the new conceptions of nature, 
with which science makes us familiar, render the 
presence and constant operation of God a most rea- 
sonable postulate ; and that the modes of operation 
on which science insists, instead of making the 
mind averse to revelation, in reality harmonize 
with the most distinctive teachings of our holy re- 
ligion. Whatever the personal attitude of some 
men of science, the bent and tendency of scientific 
thought is in a wholesome direction, and can only 
result in the fuller confirmation of that truth of 
which the church is the pillar and ground. 

The term " evolution " need not disturb us in the 
least. In laying so much stress on this truth mod- 
ern science simply repeats what was taught by 
Thomas Aquinas centuries ago, that one increasing 
purpose runs through the successive stages of cre- 
ation up to man. The more carefully we study the 
process of creation, the more profoundly must we 
be convinced that this mighty process had its ori- 



390 THE THEISTIC ARGUMENT. 

gin in mind ; and the more devoutly shall we ac- 
cept the teaching of Holy Writ, " In the beginning 
was the Word : " "- all things were made by Him, 
and without Him was not anything made that was 
made." 



INDEX OF NAMES. 



Anselm, 80, 87, 97. 

Aquinas, 389. 

Argyle, Duke of, iii, 149, 150, 

160, 179. 
Arnold, Matthew, 320. 
Austin, J., 106. 

Bacon, Lord, 138. 
Berkeley, 42, 45. 
Bowen, Prof. F., 14. 
Buckle, 61, 106, 282, 285. 
Butler, Joseph, 388. 
Byron, 71. 

Carpenter, Dr., 221. 
Channing, W. E., 44. 
Clark, Dr. S., 83. 
Comte, 50, 60, 61, 219, 257, 285, 
286, 336 seq. 

Darwin, 158, 162, 163, 166, 180, 
181, 188, 189, 195, 199. 

Democritus, 121, 204. 

Descartes, 6, 97, 80, 81, 87, 139, 
I75> 350- ♦ 

Epicurus, 121. 

Feuerbach, 332. 

Fiske, J., 17, 19s, 240. 

Flint, Prof. R., 74, 77, 106, 148, 

183, 203, 347. 
Eraser, Prof. A., 44. 
Froude, J. A., 280. 

Goethe, 10. 
Gray, A., 167. 
Guizot, 285. 

Hamilton, Sir W., 97, 244, 310, 
312. 



Harrison, F., 63. 
Hartmann, 214 seq., 356 seq. 
Hegel, 206, 214. 
Heine, 354. 
Helmholtz, 146. 
Heraclitus, 204. 
Herbert, T. M., 313, 349. 
Hooker, 106. 
Homer, 354. 

Hume, 7, 8, 10, 12, 57, 84. 
Huxley, 6, 9, 61, 181, 182, 220 
232, 340 seq., 346, 349. 

Janet, 106, 137, 142, 143, 156, 159, 
160, 185. 

Kant, 45, 46, 48, 57, 76, 85, 220, 

237, 305- 
Kepler, 103, 108, 109. 

Lamarck, 187. 

La Place, 66, 191. 

Leibnitz, 220, 236. 

Lewes, G. H.,38, 55, 58, 131, 139. 

Locke, 6, 7, 45, 93, 305, 307. 

Lucretius, 130, 156, 166. 

Macaulay, i, 27, 287 seq. 

Mackintosh, Sir J., 8, 286. 

Maine, Sir H., 283. 

Mallock, 21. 

Mansel, H. L., 319. 

Marcus Aurelius, 354. 

Menander, 354. 

Mill, J. S., 14, 17, 50, 57, 60, -]-], 

84,88, 90, 92, 93, 118, 137, 142, 

163, 220, 
Moliere, 81. 
Morell, J. D., 9. 
Mozley, 85, 140. 
Miiller, John, 143. 



392 



INDEX OF NAMES. 



Newman, J. H., 64, 65, 245. 
Newton, 37, 103, 108, 109, 169, 
177. 

Paley, i, 209. 

" Physicus," 19, 116, 125, 127. 

Porter, N., 136. 

Powell, Baden, 115, 122. 

Schelling, 206, 231. 

Schleiermacher, 206. 

Schopenhauer, 214, 355. 

Shakespeare, 25, 117, 191. 

Shelley, 71. 

Smith, Goldwin, 276, 280. 

Socrates, i. 

Spencer, H., 51 seq.^ 60, 117, 124, 



128, 169, 172, 176, 191, 192 seq., 
220, 239, 252, 293 seq., 311, 319, 
323 seq., 350. 

Spinoza, 204, 319. 

Symonds, 71. 

Trelawny, 70. 
Tyndall, 94, 220. 

Ulpian, 106. 

Vico, 285. 
Voltaire, 155. 
Von Holbach, 333. 

Wordsworth, 207. 
Wright, Chauncey, 33. 



